


Stretch, Push, Shift

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Feelings, M/M, Paddling, Photography, Podfic Available, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, Spitroasting, Strength Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: When Phichit invites Victor, Yuuri, and Chris to a club to go dancing with him after Skate America everyone learns something.Or seven instances of kink in two developing romantic relationships.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/gifts).



Phichit has been Yuuri’s first call since sometime in their second year of college. It had taken a year for them to get close, the awkward liminal time between meeting someone and knowing how badly their socks smelled, and stealing their razor temporarily when your own got too dull and snuggling up together to watch Disney movies in the same bed after midterms. By the time Phichit sprains his wrist – the one he hasn’t been getting carpel tunnel in – and Yuuri has to help him shower for two weeks, there’s not a whole lot they don’t share with each other.

Phichit has come to understand that this level of closeness is actually pretty unusual between college roommates, and even more unexpected with Yuuri himself. All the same, Phichit doesn’t know the first time Yuuri goes to the club. He does however hear about both times when Yuuri returns from his second visit. Yuuri had gone with the girlfriend of one of his friend-acquaintances from the LGBTQ student alliance.

“It’s not a sexual thing for her,” Yuuri explained later, “and I talked with both of them when she offered, it seemed like a good idea.” The first time had gone well enough that there was a second, and that too had been appreciated by all parties involved. Only, Yuuri had wandered back into their dorm room late Friday, Phichit hadn’t really been paying a whole lot of attention, absorbed in a project, headphones on. But Yuuri hadn’t closed the door, he’d just sat on his bed, sort of staring and Phichit had noticed. It wasn’t a stillness in Yuuri but rather the absence of it. As Phichit pulled down his headphones, he could see that Yuuri was shaking minutely.

“Yuuri?” He’d asked, moving to close the door before sitting tentatively next to him, just shy of touching. “Are you alright?”

“Great,” Yuuri had answered with a giddy smile.

“Okay…want to tell me what’s going on?” And after thinking a moment Yuuri had.

Phichit wasn’t exactly versed in this kind of thing, but he lived on the internet. He scrounged a back up snickers bar out of his ‘in case of emergencies’ drawer and a Gatorade from the mini fridge. Once Yuuri had drunk some, he’d asked,

“Can I hug you, would you like a hug?” And Yuuri, clearly taking stock of himself, had nodded. It wasn’t a particularly long hug, Phichit had certainly snuggled Yuuri for longer before, but the shift from tense and wound to breathing more deeply and relaxing into Phichit was pronounced.

“Feeling better?” Phichit asked as he pulled away. Slowly, Yuuri nodded. “I know sub drop gets more talked about, but that kind of thing can happen for Doms too. Not coming all the way back to center. Didn’t your friend-”

“It’s not her fault!” Yuuri protested, “I was totally fine before I left, we hung out in the chill room and everything, I just wasn’t feeling very hungry or thirsty. I felt fine, I didn’t start-” Yuuri made a slight shaking motion with one hand “before I was on my way home. I don’t think I even really noticed until you said something.”

Phichit frowned. “Well, if you’re doing this again, maybe make some kind of routine for yourself? Or figure out what you need after? But, Yuuri, you can always call me.” 

Yuuri does do it again. They mostly don’t talk about details, but Yuuri goes out every third Saturday, and most Thursdays. Mostly he doesn’t call Phichit, but sometimes.

Phichit first goes with Yuuri at the start of their fourth year. His conversations with Yuuri have certainly raised his curiosity, as well as his online research. Yuuri is pretty surprised when Phichit suggests they go to an upcoming Friday dance event at Yuuri’s typical club but after some stuttering inquiries about Phichit’s interest. No, Phichit isn’t really interested in trying anything himself. No, Phichit is not interested in Yuuri, that hasn’t change since they last addressed the topic. No, Phichit doesn’t think he would mind the things he’d see there even if he isn’t interested in experiencing something that doesn’t keep him from being curious.

“It’s not just because it’s important to you Yuuri, but that’s definitely part of it. You know me, I like seeing the world. These are your friends right?” Yuuri hedges on that point, which Phichit takes. “Your community then,” he amends.

Convinced that Phichit isn’t going to suddenly run away screaming, Yuuri goes with him Friday. The place isn’t exactly what Phichit expected, and neither is Yuuri in this new setting, but both things are pretty great. No one makes Phichit feel uncomfortable. The dancing is actually better, easier than the times Phichit has tried clubbing with Yuuri at gay bars. Maybe it’s Yuuri, maybe it’s himself, whatever it is, Phichit likes it. He certainly doesn’t mind all the activity going on along the sides around the dance floor. He doesn’t follow Yuuri when he slips off to a far end of the room, but that’s only partially because he isn’t certain if Yuuri would be comfortable with that. Mostly it's because Phichit is already occupied with another scene and doesn’t want to leave. He’s really curious how it’s going to play out.

Second and fourth Fridays are added to their schedule, and now Phichit sometimes comes to third Saturdays too. Sometime after the Christmas holidays (Phichit took the time off to fly home for a few days, Yuuri did not), Phichit watches Yuuri do his thing for the first time. They’d talked about it back in October, a winding conversation that wove and dropped over two weeks until a comfortable set of boundaries were established. Phichit hadn’t put it into practice yet, mostly because Yuuri’s so slow. By the time Yuuri’s engaged, Phichit has typically already found somewhere he wants to be. Often enough they meet up later, moving in the direction of leaving on an unplanned but mutually held schedule. Sometimes that means the two of them cuddling and reconnecting before heading out, sometimes it’s walking together, in silence or in laughter, back to their dorm. What Phichit is most surprised by is how proud he feels of Yuuri. There’s something about seeing how vital Yuuri is, intensely focused and so careful. He pushes like it’s an art form. Phichit can intellectually see how someone could go weak kneed for that. Yuuri is good at what he does.

Phichit watches Yuuri a lot after that. It might have been weird, but they talk about it a lot. Yuuri loves sharing the things he loves with his closest people, Phichit is happy to see Yuuri happy and valued by the people around him. It integrates as just one more part of their friendship, like the fact that Yuuri never thinks to open the blinds in their dorm room so Phichit always has to climb over his bed to get a little more light, or Yuuri’s nose-wrinkled protests at the fumes of Phichit’s glitter nail polish obsession which unfortunately hits in late February during two weeks of snow.

After Yuuri leaves for Hasetsu, before Phichit moves to Bangkok himself, he visits the club alone. It isn’t the first time he’s done it, but it feels final somehow. He has a ticket home tucked in his passport and all of Yuuri’s posters of Victor Nikiforov are missing from their room. Phichit knows enough people, is enough of a familiar face there that he doesn’t feel lonely. The club is more comforting than the spaces in their room where Yuuri’s textbooks and beat up running shoes used to be; the lonesome figure of the Wal-Mart clip lamp he left attached to his empty desk. Phichit wonders what Yuuri’s doing now that he’s home. Hasetsu isn’t particularly big, and he’s living with his parents. It’s Yuuri, he went out and found the club in the first place, maybe he’s taking the train to a larger city somewhere. But also it’s Yuuri, who can be kind of a homebody. He might just be staying in his room playing video games. Phichit resolves to ask the next time they FaceTime, as long as it’s not a conversation in public.

***

Chris is fairly certain he’s not on Victor’s speed dial. Chris is fairly certain Victor doesn’t have a speed dial setup on his phone. Chris does however, likely rank at the top of a most-texted list. He’s a little disappointed that Victor isn’t good at sexting because he gets distracted too easily. Their friendship could be far more interesting. But he’s on some sort of rotation for Victor’s three am inspirations, Victor’s “does the make my ass look fat?”, Victor’s “so if, hypothetically, someone was going to choreograph a exhibition skate to Rihanna…” and Victor's “why did my dog throw up in my shoes??!” queries. Also, they occasionally have fantastic sex after competitions when they share a podium together. The general feelings of friendship are mutual. It’s why Chris isn’t even mad when he sees Victor flying tackle kiss Katsuki Yuuri at the Cup of China, he’s too busy being happy for his friend, and perhaps a little mourning the loss of a really good booty call.

The problem is, Victor doesn’t have many friends. Victor doesn’t actually even have sex with that many people. For Victor it’s too much work, sifting the hero worship and fame grabbing from friendly, interested, and available. For Victor, Chris has been easy and fun, and the appreciation for that goes both ways. But now that Yuuri is in the equation, Chris sometimes gets calls not texts.

“I think there’s something he’s not telling me,” Victor says. Chris hums a question, encouraging Victor to elaborate. Phone calls with Victor are basically always about two things, sex and Yuuri. Chris figures at some point his name became synonymous with sex in Victor’s brain so when his fingers went to his phone for help, Chris’ number came up as the obvious answer to questions about sexy birthday presents, negative skin reactions to flavored lube, and how do you talk to your husband about the fact that you want him to sit on your face like in porn. Victor still hasn’t figured out that last one, but Chris is a supportive friend and holds out hope that he will. He does not point out that there are things Victor obviously hasn’t talked about with Yuuri.

“What makes you say that?” he asks instead when Victor doesn’t continue. They’ve been married for the past five months and dating for just over a year prior to that. The wedding was great, though Chris was a bit disappointed by the lack of bachelor party pole dancing. He’d had expectations. In that time, Chris has gotten to know Yuuri, not as well as he knows Victor but enough consider them friends. It’s all enough to know there’s a lot more going on with Yuuri than what you get on the surface. The pole dancing was proof enough of that.

Victor hems and haws on the other end of the line, Chris lets him wind down, patting his knee until his little princess jumps up so he can scratch behind her ears.

“He keeps apologizing, during sex, sometimes after.”

“For what?” Chris asks.

“I’m not entirely sure? I tried to ask, but it’s Yuuri, he can be really good at talking around things. I know there’s something, but I don’t know what. It’s been great! The sex, I mean. Nothing to apologize for. I’ve told him it’s great. It’s obviously great! But I think he’s worried about something?”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was he doing before he apologized?”

This time Victor hums. Chris can just picture him tapping his lips thoughtfully.

“Well, one time I was trying to tickle him and he managed to grasp both of my arms behind my back so I couldn’t. But then he started apologizing to me, even though I’d been the one trying to tickle him. He said it was fine. I have tickle permission when we’re in private Chris, I double-checked. That wasn’t what was wrong! Another time we were teasing, sort of, just rolling around and kissing each other wherever, and I said - something? I don’t remember but he just flipped us and pinned me, but then he started apologizing even though I said it didn’t hurt, he hadn’t done anything wrong it was just really…firm. I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t like my being playful with him? It’s never been a problem before...” Victor trails off. Chris can tell he’s honestly distressed.

“Has Yuuri mentioned anything about any of it, aside from apologizing?”

“No.” It’s a little hesitant so Chris gives Victor a pause to reconsider before continuing.

“And he hasn’t asked you to stop, tickling him or whatever?”

“No.” Victor is certain of this answer.  
  
“And you asked him what was bothering him?”

“Of course! But he said it was nothing. That I ‘shouldn’t be worried about it’, and another time that it had nothing to do with me! Chris, I’m the one he’s having sex with, how does it have nothing to do with me?”

Chris sighs, “I wasn’t there, obviously, so I don’t have a full perspective on this. But, Victor, it could be something about him. It’s Yuuri, you know he can sometimes be a little body conscious, or just worried in general. This might be something about him. Five months is pretty new still, maybe he’s still adjusting to what your being married means. Just be clear that you’re always ready to talk with him. I know you make it clear that you care and you love him no matter what. Keep doing that and I’d bet you my next gold medal that he’ll figure out how to tell you. Probably before you figure out how to tell him about the face thing.” Victor chooses not to rise to that prod.

“Your next gold medal!” he responds. “We’ll see about that.” Chris laughs and says goodbye.

Chris’ next gold medal is not at Skate America; he doesn’t even make the podium. Phichit takes silver, Yuuri takes bronze, and Victor is gold. Chris is a close fourth in the lineup at least. It means he’s going forward to the next round. After the medals ceremony, Phichit sends them a mass text, or at least a mass text to Victor, Yuuri, and Chris.

_> Top four party! Meet me at the park by the hotel, south entrance, and be dressed to party_

Chris doesn’t have plans. No one has flights until tomorrow and skating is over.

 _> You know I’ll come_ Chris replies almost simultaneously with Yuuri’s

_> Phichit, what are you planning? _

_> It’s been forever since we’ve gone out together! _Phichit responds immediately.

_> You didn’t even get a proper bachelor party. It’s like my duty as best man. Besides ~dancing~ *dancing girl emoji*_

_> We’ll be there! _Victor chimes in

 _> How do you even know where to go dancing here?_ Yuuri asks.

_> Yuuri, the internet exists for a reason. Also, old friends! It’s gonna be great~!_

_> Wear the pants!!! _is Phichit’s last text which Chris has no idea how to decipher, he’s certainly curious about the answer.

The answer as it turns out is a pair of sinfully tight leather pants.

“Why did you have those with you?” Chris has to ask. Yuuri blushes, which is patently not an answer. Chris looks at Victor, but he looks like he’s been smacked by a two-by-four. He definitely has not been holding out on Chris with the details. Yuuri has been holding out on them all. Though possibly not Phichit. Chris suddenly wonders if this has anything at all to do with Yuuri’s sneak attack b-boying and pole dancing abilities.

“So where are we going?” Chris asks when it’s clear Yuuri isn’t going to actually answer the question.

“You’ll see!” Phichit sings and leads the way.

Chris was not expecting this kind of club when Phichit said dancing, but Yuuri’s pants make a lot more sense. When Phichit takes off his coat, it reveals he’s wearing an almost backless black halter-top and painted on skinny jeans. Chris has noticed Phichit is attractive in the way that most figure skaters of a certain level are, and occasionally in specific whenever he breaks out his on fleek winged eyeliner, but this is Phichit in a totally different light. Phicht’s demeanor doesn’t change much, Yuuri on the other hand... It’s like watching Yuuri step onto the ice. Chris isn’t even sure when the transformation happened, sometime between showing their IDs and signing some paperwork, and Yuuri tucking is own coat over Phichit’s on a hanger. Yuuri pockets the ticket stubs for his coat and the additional hanger for Victor’s coat, scarf, and sweater. Yuuri had slipped his button down shirt in as the first layer on the hanger and now stands in a tight black t-shirt and the phenomenal leather pants.

Chris isn’t even going to try not to stare. Victor certainly isn’t managing it. He looks a bit distressed that he didn’t think to take off his own button up, collared shirt before handing his coat hanger to Yuuri. Victor has at least opted for fashionable, tailored jeans. They’re the kind that show off the muscles of his skater’s legs, even if they don’t measure up to Yuuri’s pants. Chris is rocking a teal, collared, button up t-shirt, open of course to mid chest and white pants, a combination which he thinks regrettably might not be quite right for this venue. Victor is still staring drop jawed at Yuuri as Phichit leads them towards the base beat and bright lights of a dance floor.

“I thought this might remind you of Detroit!” Phichit calls over the music, “When I saw they were having a dance night.” It’s clearly addressed to Yuuri who nods in return with a slight smile. Victor’s eyes are ping ponging between them, taking in Yuuri’s casual disregard of the man on a lead wearing nothing but small black briefs following a woman in a bustier and garters passing them. Yuuri isn’t ignoring them with awkward aversion of his eyes or staring at them with the appreciation Chris favors. To Yuuri it’s clearly normal enough to be unremarked upon, something that definitely surprises Chris.

“You went to places like this often in Detroit?” Chris asks.

“I did,” Phichit answers, “a couple times a month.”

“I didn’t know this was your kind of thing.”

“It’s not.” Phichit shakes his head, looking over at Yuuri. Something in Yuuri’s face shifts for a moment, fear maybe, and his eyes flick to Victor. Victor is staring around them with that grin he gets whenever he’s surprised, delight and curiosity and a little bit of wonder. Yuuri sighs and smiles slightly at Phichit.

“I started going because Yuuri was always there. He went once a week!” Phichit says.

“Phichit-!” Yuuri protests, clearly the unspoken permission hadn’t covered that many details. Phichit pulls an embarrassed face.

“Sorry, Yuuri. Anyways, Yuuri introduced me and I guess I never really left, metaphorically speaking.”

“So, do you…?” Chris gestures around.

“Nah, I’m here to appreciate not participate.” Phichit grins.

“How about you?” Chris asks, turning to Yuuri. Prior to entering the club, Chris might have thought something else. On first impressions, prior to seeing Yuuri’s career blossom the past two years Chris might have nodded, accepting Yuuri’s timidity needed a guiding hand, but here and now watching the loose easy roll of Yuuri’s hips as he walks, the confidence in his shoulders, the sense of purpose he carries around himself, Yuuri is magnetic. Chris is a little afraid Victor is going to choke on his tongue.

Chris doesn’t follow up that thought particularly far because they’re already weaving their way through the edge of the dance floor. Chris notes how people part for Yuuri almost instinctively. Like the way Yuuri moves broadcasts some message Chris doesn’t know enough to understand but that other people around them are picking up on. Yuuri finds them a somewhat open spot in the throng of dancers, and starts gyrating enthusiastically with Phichit. Chris is no stranger to club dancing and the music here isn’t particularly different. Victor is still a little pole-axed, but Yuuri turns and pulls him close. There’s a certain kind of dancing that lets you know when two people are already fucking each other off the dance floor. Apparently Yuuri is really good at it and any distraction or hesitation Victor might have had is clearly blown away. Phichit twirls beside them and flashes Chris an okay sign over Yuuri’s shoulder.

Sweat is sticking Chris’ hair to his forehead by the time they leave the dance floor. It’s gotten a little more crowded and Chris has already accidentally brushed against more naked body parts than he typically expects to in an evening. As they wind off the dance floor Victor is still pressed close to Yuuri, bent down just slightly to murmur in his ear while Yuuri grins up a him, one hand gently cupped around the back of Victor’s neck. Chris watches them, considers a million small interactions he’s seen between the two of them and thinks _huh_.

“I’m going to check out the other room.” Phichit says, moving along the side of the dance floor to where an open door frame leads to another space. “Yuuri?” Yuuri looks at Victor.

Victor rocks a little on the balls of his feet in an almost bounce.

“I’m curious!” he smiles. Yuuri shrugs and nods.

“Sure, let’s go.” Chris walks in the back this time, watching Victor slide his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders with familiar ease and Yuuri’s arm snake around his waist in response, tucking Victor just a little more firmly closer.

The room beyond is definitely not dancing. Chris takes a moment trying to decide where he wants to look first. Phichit is also looking around, but after a moment raises a hand in greeting and with a nod to Yuuri moves off down the room. Chris assumes this is about the old friend Phichit mentioned. Chris is surprised that with all that’s going on around them he winds up watching Yuuri and Victor. It’s probably because Chris has to admit he’s a little concerned. This is a lot of revelations for one night and it’s not like Yuuri and Victor have had time to really talk about this, well, aside from whatever they talked about on the dance floor. Maybe it’s all sorted out. Phichit hasn’t seemed worried. Everything seems fine. But it’s a lot to go from fantasizing about your boyfriend gagging you with his cock to, well, this.

Chris may not be the most experienced in this sort of scene but he’s not entirely unfamiliar, and he’s been on the negative end of this kind of scenario before. It’s because he’s watching that he sees it. Victor flinches minutely at the crack of the paddle coming down on the ass of a woman on a bench to their left. Yuuri sees it too. He shifts closer in to Victor, turning slightly under Victor’s arm to address him more directly. Chris can’t hear what he says, voice too low. He does see Victor’s answering shake of his head and can hear Victor’s “No.” The crack of the paddle resounds again. Chris can’t hear the sharp intake of Victor’s breath but he can see it in Victor’s parted lips and Yuuri’s expression. Yuuri says something else. Victor swallows. His eyes dart to the woman on the bench, to the woman standing calmly over her hefting the paddle, back to Yuuri.

Chris can’t hear Victor’s “Yes” but reads it on his lips anways. Yuuri’s arm squeezes once around Victor’s waist and Yuuri says,

“Okay. That’s good to know.” Victor nods, a few sharp bobs like a bobble-doll before stilling himself and smiling down at Yuuri. He presses a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. Chris is learning so much about his friends and he can’t even hear half their conversation. Chris goes back to pointedly looking around and not tracking Victor and Yuuri’s progression through the room. There’s quite a lot to look at. Idly, Chris wonders if he might be able to find a scene for himself this evening. It’s been a long time and it seems like it’s a night for small miracles.

Chris catches up with Victor and Yuuri a little while later. He hasn’t found anything for himself yet, but has enjoyed being spectator and has waved in cheerful passing to Phichit, who was deep in conversation with a woman who was being quite thoroughly eaten out at the time. Chris likes to concentrate on that sort of thing himself, but to each their own. There are more than enough options to go around. Chris spots Yuuri and Victor by what looks like a black painted trellis.

“-not here, but would you want to now?” Victor is asking as Chris walks up.

“Victor, if it wasn’t with you…” Yuuri is facing Victor, turned away from Chris, so Chris can’t read his expression.

“Chris!” Victor says. It’s a greeting, but he’s also gesturing at Chris in ‘look at that’ sort of way, palm up in invitation. Yuuri spins to face him. Chris presses a hand to his chest ‘who me?’ but doesn’t voice a question yet, letting Yuuri and Victor’s conversation play out.

“Chris…” Yuuri says, drawing Chris’ name out, part a question, part consideration. Chris is fairly certain he isn’t being addressed and that in fact Yuuri is still talking to Victor.

“I trust Chris, I trust you.” Victor says simply. His hand comes up to cup Yuuri’s cheek, Yuuri holds it there, fingers curled over Victor’s wrist and pressed to his pulse point. After a moment, Yuuri turns slightly, lips ghosting over Victor’s palm before his teeth bite sharply into the heel of Victor’s hand by his thumb. Victor gasps and his cheeks flush red. When Yuuri drops his hand, Victor’s left curls over his right, cupping over the impression of Yuuri’s teeth.

“Okay.” Yuuri says. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely.” Victor agrees. Yuuri turns his eyes back to Chris, though he remains shifted towards Victor.

“Chris, Victor and I have a proposal.” Victor looks slightly surprised to be included, but it quickly lifts into a smile. “Would you be interested in a Scene together while we’re here tonight? Victor would be present the entire time. Anything we agree upon would be just for tonight with no expectation of future physical relations beyond our already established friendship.” Yuuri’s glance flicks to Victor briefly, “though we’ll leave the future open to further conversation. Chris, would you like to sub for me?” Even though he feels like he saw this coming at least a minute ago, it still takes Chris a second to process.

“Yes.” Chris agrees.

“Alright, of what I’ve seen here…how do you feel about impact play? Spanking, floggers?”

“Yes.” Chris says again, before fully registering the question. Yuuri just _looks_ at him, waiting and Chris swallows. Victor somehow manages to look both smug and sympathetic.

“I’m comfortable with spanking, open hand or paddles, caning is good too. Floggers are fine, but I’d prefer spanking. I’m pretty disappointed that I don’t have any of my stuff for needle play. I saw someone with cell popping equipment earlier tonight, I don’t know if they’d let you use it but…” Chris smiles suggestively.

Yuuri smiles back but shrugs, shaking his head, “I don’t actually have experience with that, sorry. Phichit’s friend has an excellent paddle I can borrow though. Do you have a safe word?”

“Switzerland.”

“Any injuries? Anything I should be aware of?”

“No.”

“Great. If you do think of something, tell me,” Yuuri directs. “I’ll be right back.” He darts off, presumably to get the excellent paddle.

Chris looks at Victor.

“Maybe this explains the apologizing?” Chris suggests and Victor laughs. He’s still blushing a little.

“I think you’re right.”

“And you’re positive this is alright with you?”

“Yes. I had no idea how much Yuuri was missing this. It’s not something I’m ready for right now, not here. But I. I want to see it, to see him. What he’s like. And I do trust you. You’re one of my oldest friends Chris. I know you’ll both have fun, I know Yuuri will come back to me at the end of the night, and I know that if you say you’re comfortable with it, you’ll treat us both the same in the morning and text me about how much you hate giving your cat flea baths in a week and nothing will have changed.”

“Thanks,” Chris says softly. Victor smiles back at him. Yuuri reappears with Phichit in tow this time.

“Do you mind if I watch?” Phichit asks. “I love seeing Yuuri work, and I haven’t had the chance in forever. But if that doesn’t work for you, no pressure. I’ve got a million other places I could be right now.” He gestures generally at the space. Chris is unprepared for the spike of arousal that flares through him at the question. Somehow the idea of Phichit Chulanont watching him, Phichit who he’s familiar with, but isn’t precisely a friend…that space between anonymous stranger and the friendship he shares with Victor and by extension Yuuri but which Phichit falls into is particularly enticing in this scenario.

“Please,” Chris responds. Phichit flashes him a thumbs up in return.

Yuuri is standing over by the trellis, gaze raking over Chris before assessing the wood before him.

“How do you feel about having your wrists restrained?”

“Fine,” Chris answers.

“Alright. Pants off, and come over here,” Yuuri orders. Chris hurries out of his pants and moves to obey.

“You may respond to direct questions from me, non-verbal noise is acceptable.” Chris nods his head. That wasn’t a question. He’s rewarded with Yuuri’s smile.

“Wrists here please,” Yuuri says, tapping a spot on the trellis. It requires Chris to bend a little. He stretches out his arms and Yuuri folds velcro and neoprene cuffs around each wrist, securing each one to the frame so Chris is supported both by the structure of the trellis, and the grip of the cuffs, but at the same time, he won't be able to brace his hands against anything. He flexes his fingers.

“Are the cuffs comfortable?” Yuuri asks.

“They’re nice and firm but not too tight. It feels fine.” Chris worries it might be too many words but Yuuri nods approval again.

“Good. Take one step back.” Chris shuffles awkwardly to move his feet back, balance just slightly off until he can settle into the new position. “Legs apart,” Yuuri commands. Chris feels Yuuri guiding his legs apart with gentle pressure from his shoe nudging against Chris’s heel and the smooth brush of leather against Chris’s calf. “There. Good. Do not move your feet. I want you to count in your head.” Yuuri says. “Every five, tell me to stop. Understood?”

“Yes.” Chris answers.

Chris can feel Phichit’s eyes on him, legs spread, ass exposed. A shiver shakes down his spine. Yuuri tests the paddle, presumably against his hand, and Chris starts. Yuuri glides a warm hand down over his side, one smooth caress. The paddle comes down with a sharp thwack. It jolts Chris forward, but the cuffs hold tight, keeping him fixed in place. The sting of the first hit fades to warmth. Yuuri’s second tap is much lighter, warming up Chris’s skin after that first attention-grabbing greeting. It’s almost lulling enough that Chris forgets to count.

“Stop!” he says, fairly certain that it’s seven and not five. It might have actually been eight because Yuuri pinches three hot flashes of pain along the top of his ass with surprisingly sharp fingers. Chris yelps.

“Another five.” Yuuri reminds him and goes back to the lighter, easier hits with the paddle.

Chris gets better at counting with the firmer strokes, though Yuuri still varies speed and power enough to throw Chris off. When he pinches wrong numbers into Chris’ heated skin Chris tries to twist away. It’s difficult when trying to keep his feet locked in place. Chris’s fingers stretch and flex twisting like his legs can’t. Chris hasn’t been keeping track of how many fives have gone by and Yuuri switched the last two counts to seven, so he can’t really be sure if they’re at thirty or sixty, but somewhere in there. His cock is definitely leaking now. The times he gets the count right and says ‘stop’ before Yuuri can bring the paddle down again, Yuuri gives him one languorous pull to Chris’ cock in approval. The second time that happened, Chris almost came.

Yuuri brings the paddle down again, and Chris gasps. The weight of the blow is heavy enough his whole body rocks with it. Chris knows the kind of power Yuuri has, the strength of highly trained muscle. The ability to throw his body into the air for a quad and the ability to throw a hit with his whole core are not totally dissimilar. Chris tries to remember what number he’s on. His whole body feels flushed. Heat pours off him as Yuuri slams the paddle against him again. Chris can’t remember what number that is. He feels tears dripping off his nose, head hung down between his shoulders. He turns his face into one arm and thinks, _Phichit Chulanont is watching me cry._ Yuuri brings the paddle down again.

“Stop!” Chris shouts. Apparently this time he’s right. His body shakes as much from his wet sob at Yuuri’s cool hand on his dick as from the heavy impact of the paddle. Chris shakes.

“I think you can do fourteen more before you come.” Yuuri says, giving Chris’s dick another steady, tight pull. “Do you think so?” Chris doesn’t know. He cries into his shoulder, unable to get words out through the muddle of tears. “Chris?” Yuuri asks, patient. Chris’s hips twitch but Yuuri’s hand moves with him. If only he were squeezing just a little tighter, just the slightest twist of his wrist. Chris can feel it right there but Yuuri is still just _holding_ him, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t. I don’t.” Chris shakes his head.

“You know your safe word?” Yuuri asks.

“Yes.” Chris agrees. Yuuri lets go. A moment later the paddle slams down. Yuuri follows that heaviest hit with a flurry of faster, lighter ones. Chris’s overworked skin feels all of them. Yuuri’s paddle kissing him with fire. He almost misses seven.

“Stop.” Yuuri stops. This time, Yuuri plucks one of Chris’ nipples. He hasn’t touched them this entire time. Chris was expecting another stroke, sure that finally this one, this would be it. He couldn’t take another and not come. Pleasure arcs up his spine, cock jerking precum as Chris keens. Yuuri brings the paddle back down. Chris is gasping, sure he’ll miss it, so close now. _six, seven._

“Stop!” Ragged and desperate Chris waits for Yuuri’s hand. For the long moment Chris is suddenly sure Yuuri is going to leave him like this and a plea bubbles up his throat. But Chris would have been begging hours ago, or is it minutes, except Yuuri hasn’t asked him a question. Chris can’t. Then Yuuri’s hand closes around him.

Three sharp tugs, the last with a cruel upward twist, his other hand flicking sharply at Chris’s nipple and Chris is convulsing against him. The shocking relief of his orgasm blanks out every other thought. It leaves Chris winded and he heaves for breath. The impact of his orgasm burns in his body, little sparks of pleasure dancing along his skin even after the initial rush. Yuuri’s hand grips Chris’s shoulder, a point for Chris to focus on. Chris is quaking, legs unsteady and his arms and back protesting at the strain as Yuuri releases his wrists. Yuuri helps him straighten up slowly, one arm at his shoulder, another steadying at his hip as Chris sways.

“You were wonderful Chris, thank you,” Yuuri murmurs and Chris grins at him. Chris isn’t entirely certain he isn’t going to fall down. Yuuri helps him blow his nose because there is no way Chris’s arms are going to be able to hold a tissue up at the moment. With different, clean tissue he dabs the trails of tears off Chris’ cheeks. Then Chris turns around to his audience. Phichit is mid stretch, arms above his head, top riding up as he leans to one side. He winks at them.

“Yuuri you have certainly not lost your touch. Chris that was great. I’d give it 10/10.” Chris laughs, leaning against Yuuri and smiling back at him. Victor honestly looks more gone than Chris feels right now and Chris is feeling pretty damn languid and happy. Yuuri clearly twigs to this immediately, extending a hand for Victor to come to him. He darts a glare at Phichit who raises both hands.

“I was keeping an eye on him.” Phichit says. “He’s fine. Come on lets all go to a quieter space and I’ll help you with Chris. If that’s alright with you?” Chris nods at the question addressed to him.

“Chris, you’re welcome to speak,” Yuuri says hurriedly, “All agreed upon rules over, end scene.”

Chris laughs. “I got that actually. Not feeling very wordy.”

“Chris, can I help you walk over there?” Phichit asks.

“Yes.” Chris agrees and Phichit slots under his other arm, leaving Yuuri to collect his husband. Yuuri grips Victor’s hip, looking up at him with a question. Victor answers by cupping Yuuri’s face between his palms and giving him a heady, deep kiss. It turns into a steadying hug, Yuuri cradling Victor’s head bent against his shoulder.

“They’re disgustingly adorable,” Phichit murmurs. “I love it.”

“Me too,” Chris agrees. The couple separates and they all wind their way to a set of refreshment tables. Chris is grateful for a glass of water. Between the sweating and the crying the cool liquid is heavenly. Yuuri is murmuring quietly to Victor again, Chris and Phichit both just too far away to here it. Yuuri feeds Victor a grape and Victor smiles at him.

“Do you want any food?” Phichit asks.

“Yes, but I’m feeding myself,” Chris says.

“Cool. I’ll hold the plate. Brownies?”

“Normally I wouldn’t but tonight, yes.”

“Are you good to stand here for two minutes?”

“Yes.” Chris nods. Phichit slips over to the refreshment table, with a passing nod/check-in to Yuuri as he goes. Chris watches them. Yuuri and Victor, now that Victor is verbally answering Yuuri and something of a conversation is happening, if slowly. And Phichit stacking a plate with food, presumably for both of them since Chris is not eating that much. Chris is sore and thoroughly happy. Basically, he has the best friends. 

Phichit comes back with his full plate.

“The brown ones are peanut butter. I wasn’t sure if you like cheddar, gouda, or swiss best so I got all of them.”

“Swiss, obviously.”

“Patriotic in your cheeses.” Phichit nods sagely and tries a cube for himself. “Not bad.” He switches the plate between hands so he can wrap his arm back around Chris. “We could go sit down?”

“That’d be good.” They sit in the same chair. It’s a wide armchair, but clearly not designed for two people. Phichit rests his legs over Chris’s own, perched up by Chris’s hip so he can run the fingers of his free hand through Chris’ hair.

“Comfortable?” Phichit asks.

“Very,” Chris agrees. He helps himself to another brownie.

“Do you do the undercut yourself?” Phichit asks, brushing against the grain of Chris’s hair and Chris shivers.

“The barber near my house.”

“They do a good job.” Chris turns his head just slightly so he can lean against Phichit’s shoulder. Chris has never noticed how Phichit smells before. He wonders if the sense of comfort it brings him is just situational.

“So you’ve really never done any of this yourself?” Chris asks.

“Nope, not interested,” Phichit says. Chris tries not to feel disappointed. Given his current emotional vulnerability he probably shouldn’t have started in on this conversation, but before Chris can figure out how to back himself out of it Phichit continues, “In being an active participant. You and Yuuri though, that was amazing. I hope you have some idea how gorgeous you are. I’ve always loved watching Yuuri work but that was pretty exceptional. If you’re ever thinking about doing this again, with or without Yuuri, and you want an audience?”

“I’d like that.” Chris smiles.

“Cool,” Phichit agrees. “You have my number, you should use it more often, if you want.”

“I will.”

“How are you feeling now?” Phichit asks with the same inviting, almost teasing tone.

“Really good, but also like I’d love to go collapse in my hotel room.”

“I think Victor and Yuuri agree with you.” Phichit observes, tipping his chin towards the other two. “Ready to go?”

“Would you-? Do you platonic cuddle?” Chris blurts. Phichit smiles down at him.

“Is that not what we’re doing now?”

“I meant, would you like to come back to my hotel room with me? …I like snuggling.” Chris admits. It’s strange that after everything that’s happened tonight this should feel like the secret. Phichit’s eyes are fond and happy.

“I’d like that.” Phichit agrees.


	2. Chapter 2

Sex with Victor has always been great, but in the last few months, Yuuri has really enjoyed the new levels of creativity Victor has opened up for them. It’s a slow unfurling, but Yuuri no longer feels any nerves about sharing the various parts of his desires, and his history, with Victor. They haven’t talked about everything yet, but it’s nice. It’s become almost a game. Victor will ask about something specific, a story from Yuuri’s days in Detroit or the technical execution of something he’s come across on the internet, how Yuuri would create a particular fantasy of Victor’s. Yuuri will take the question and over the next few weeks they’ll talk about it in passing, setting expectations and trying the edges of an idea until they both feel ready. In between the conversations there’s training and skating and Yuuri’s favorite kind of sex, which is any sex that involves Victor. 

A week or so after their visit to the club, Victor had asked Yuuri if he was dissatisfied with vanilla sex. Yuuri isn’t, he hasn’t been. Sex with Victor is one of his favorite things. If someone had told Yuuri in college that his favorite part of a relationship would be the equivalent to missionary he probably wouldn’t have believed them. Of course he would never have believed he’d be married to Victor Nikiforov either. Yuuri isn’t dissatisfied, was emphatic that the vanilla sex was to stay and no, Victor wasn’t getting out of that, unless he wanted to, in which case they’d really need to talk about it. It’s just that there’s another piece that’s been missing. The vanilla sex is here to stay, but the other part is equally important and all of Yuuri feels more settled with both parts on the table. 

Victor focuses through January to win the European Championships and returns the favor for February, for the Four Continents. It’s nice to have competitions where they’re only supporting each other, pushing each other in training and practices, offering advice and encouragement. The condo doesn’t get quite as neglected when Yuuri and Victor aren’t both competing at once. It’s just prior to the Four Continents and Yuuri is in full swing of pre-competition. He’s been drilling a new jump combo and still sees the visualization of the step sequence to enter the jump every time he closes his eyes. But when he looks at Victor an idea he’d had earlier resurfaces. 

They’ve talked idly about the differences between coaching and what Yuuri does. The way Victor pushed as Yuuri’s coach, and the way Yuuri likes to stretch people, walking them up to their limits just for the point of showing it’s there and that Yuuri has found them and knows them and can hold them to that place. It’s part of the answer to Victor’s question,  
“I know why I like this Yuuri, but why do you like it?” Yuuri still isn’t fully satisfied with his own answer. 

“I have a light training day tomorrow.” Yuuri says, “There’s something I’d like to try with you, if you’re interested?” Victor is basically always interested. 

“Of course, Yuuri,” Victor says. 

“It would be a bit like your strength training.” Victor makes a face. He’s actually pretty militant about not doing more than he needs to when he’s in what should be a lighter training period.

“You can go light on your legs tomorrow because I’ll make up for it.” Victor sighs. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know,” Victor agrees, “But I want to, even if I don’t want to.” It’s just one more of the things Yuuri is coming to love about his husband. 

Yuuri washes off the sweat from a hard day’s training. He considers getting a little dressier for the occasion but opts for comfort, loose track pants and a beat up t-shirt, a combination he knows makes Victor want to snuggle him. Victor’s reading on his kindle with bedside lamp on when Yuuri comes into the room. 

“Hey.” Yuuri greets and Victor looks up with a smile. He clicks off the kindle and eagerly bounces up to give Yuuri a hug. 

“So-?” Victor asks drawing back.

“I want you naked,” Yuuri says easily and Victor strips. “Good. You’ll probably recognize this. Stand here.” Victor does. “Now lean back against the wall. I want you to slide down the wall, till your knees are at a 90-degree angle, knees over ankles. Palms flat to the wall, shoulders pressed back, core engaged. Press back against the wall with your whole back, your feet are even and flat on the floor pressing up and back into the wall, muscles of your hips engaged.” Victor is used enough to the exercise that he slides into form perfectly. His muscles are tensed, obliques and abdominal muscles taut across his stomach. 

“I’ll count the time.” Yuuri says, “You can say whatever you want but you can’t shift position until I tell you.” Yuuri runs both his hands down Victor’s sides, watching him shiver. Victor’s shoulders jolt a little when Yuuri twists one nipple. He leans in to press a kiss to Victor’s shoulder, the worn cotton of his shirt brushing Victor’s arm. 

“Are you feeling it yet?” Yuuri asks teasing gentle fingers over the bunched muscles of Victor’s thighs. 

“No more than usual,” Victor says but his voice is a little breathy. Yuuri can see his cock starting to harden, hanging between the shoulder-width-part of his legs. Yuuri runs one finger up, skirting the inside of Victors hip and tracing the ridges of Victor’s abdominals. Yuuri leans down to suck a kiss into Victor’s collarbone. 

He takes the flesh between his teeth, pulling all the blood to the surface. Victor curses in Russian. Yuuri runs his hands down, knuckles to the wall feeling the way Victors skin is starting to stick there with sweat, fingers briefly digging into the engaged muscles of Victor’s glutes at the top of Victor’s sacrum where he knows Victor is sensitive. Yuuri glances at the clock, another minute. Victor isn’t shaking, yet. 

“Victor, arms up.” Yuuri says. Victor obediently raises both hands, arms extended above his head. Yuuri leans forward. With Victor seated like this, he can lunge one leg between Victor's own and lean up to press Victor’s wrists into the wall. Victor’s face is a few inches from his own and Yuuri watches his pupils blow wide at close range. The clock ticks quietly on the bedside table. Yuuri can feel the minute tremble of Victor’s legs to either side of his own. Victor chokes a whimper back deep in his throat. 

“Say whatever you like, Victor,” Yuuri reminds. With a swift kiss to Victor’s cheek, Yuuri releases his hands Victor keeps them up as Yuuri steps back. 

“That’s time. Straighten your legs and slide up the wall, you can bring your arms down.” 

Victor pushes up the wall, shaking out his legs a little. Yuuri takes him by both shoulders and kisses him deeply. Victor melts into it, shuddering as Yuuri’s hands run down his arms to curl around his fingers. Yuuri abandon’s Victor’s mouth to suck another spot of blooming color against Victor’s throat. Yuuri loves how Victor smells here, just under his ear. It’s a shame to replace that scent with the less appealing one of Yuuri’s saliva, but there are things Yuuri will sacrifice to get his mouth on Victor and this is one of them. Yuuri steps away, glances at the clock.

“Back down.” Yuuri orders and Victor slides down the wall with a groan. 

Victor starts pleading on set three. Yuuri touches him everywhere, fingers along his neck, the backsides of his thighs, kisses pressed into the solidity of Victor’s calves, everywhere but his cock. 

“Please, please Yuuri,” Victor begs, “touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” Yuuri points out reasonably and licks a stripe over Victor’s left pectoral just above his nipple. 

“Yuuri~” Victor whines. 

“Time.” Yuuri says, stepping away. “Slide up.” Yuuri doesn’t touch Victor between repetitions, just stands back and takes him in: his labored breathing, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, the slightly glassy sheen Victor’s eyes have taken on. When Yuuri pointedly looks down, staring at Victor’s cock before wetting his lips, it jerks like Yuuri’s gaze is as good as a touch.   
“Down.” Yuuri says and Victor snarls something in the back of his throat. 

On repetition 7 Victor’s thighs are visibly trembling. Halfway through the time he starts shaking his head back and forth, blinking at Yuuri.

“Yuuri, Yuuri I don’t think I can.” 

“I think you can, Victor,” Yuuri says. “Arms up.” Victor hitches a little sob in his throat as Yuuri steps up against him, just shy of his flushed and aching cock. Yuuri pins Victor’s arms up and leans just a little closer to lick at the panting breath on Victor’s lips. “Time,” Yuuri murmurs into Victor’s mouth. Victor gasps with relief, pushing up the wall and bracing himself with his hands to shake out his legs before straightening them and sliding them back out, stretching. Yuuri watches him.

“You’re amazing, Victor,” Yuuri says. “I’m really proud of you.” Victor pushes his sweaty bangs out of his face.

“Thanks.” 

“I think you can give two more repetitions.” Victor shakes his head.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, no.” 

“You know your safeword?” Yuuri asks. 

“Yes.”

“Good. Down, Victor.” Victor’s legs lock and for moment Yuuri thinks he won't slide back into position but then with strangled groan he does. 

“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri says, stepping close. “You’re so good for me. Let me be good for you.” He presses a kiss to Victor’s cheeks and wraps a hand around Victor’s cock. Victor doesn’t come immediately, but his whole body seizes up, balance wavering at the sudden jerk. 

“Yuuri!” Victor cries. “I can’t, If you, I won’t.” 

“You can do it Victor.” Yuuri says, pumping steadily. Victor’s hips tilt up, away from the wall. “Back to the wall Victor, feet flat to the floor. Core engaged. Knees over ankles.” Victor vibrates with the effort of keeping himself in place, not sliding down the wall to the floor or bucking up into Yuuri’s fist. Yuuri rewards him with a tighter grip and faster strokes. Victor is cursing, that delicious mix of English and Russian that Yuuri thrives on hearing. “Arms up Victor, hands together.” Victor’s arms fly up and Yuuri pins them together with one loose hand, stepping closer in to Victor hand pumping. “Look at how strong you are Victor. You’re so close aren’t you? It’s almost time, can you come for me?” Victor’s strangled sound is probably affirmative because he comes over Yuuri’s fist. Yuuri helps him slide back up the wall to the stretch and rest position. Victor gulps long breaths, eyes fixated on Yuuri’s. 

“You did really well.” Yuuri says cupping Victor’s cheek. “I’m so impressed Victor.” Victor nods jerkily against Yuuri’s hand. “How are you feeling?” Victor opens his mouth but he clearly doesn’t know. Yuuri kisses him. “Alright that’s good, it’ll be over soon.” Victor blinks owlishly, uncertain that it’s not already over. “I said two more repetitions Victor.” Victor’s jaw works. “Are you ready?” Yuuri says, “Down” before Victor can formulate a proper response. Victor slides back down the wall. 

He doesn’t hit a full 90 degrees but his legs are shaking so badly Yuuri gives him a moment. 

“Victor, engage your hips, keep your feet flat to the floor, root down through the soles of your feet, knees over ankles. There that’s good.” Victor’s legs aren’t rocking so much, tense and trembling but in good position. “Keep your core engaged. That’s right Victor. 90 degrees Victor.” Victor shifts down the wall. “Perfect. Victor you’re perfect.” Yuuri doesn’t touch Victor this time, just watches him. Yuuri watches the helpless little tremors dance over Victor’s body and has to give himself one sharp squeeze through his pants. 

“Victor, you have no idea what you do to me.” Yuuri says. I could come just looking at you.”

“Please.” Victor manages. Yuuri looks at him. 

“Can you hold that until I come?” Victor gasps and closes his eyes. Yuuri shoves his pants out of the way. Victor’s eyes snap back open at the sound of Yuuri’s hand working furiously over his own cock. Yuuri holds Victor’s gaze. 

“Are you watching me Victor?” Victor’s lips form a reply but he’s breathing too hard for the answer to be audible. “Don’t take your eyes off me.” Stepping closer, Yuuri says, “Arms up Victor, keep them there yourself.” Victor raises his arms. With Yuuri closer Victor’s eyes keep dropping to Yuuri’s cock before jerking back up to Yuuri’s face.

“You can watch my hand if you want.” 

Victor’s eyes drop. Yuuri gives himself final tug and spills over Victor’s abdomen. Yuuri draws a deep breath. Victor keeps his arms up as Yuuri’s fingers curl over his wrists. 

“Time.” Yuuri says. He’s ready for when Victor starts to sag. Yuuri uses his own weight to help brace Victor against the wall and helps him push to a full stand. When Victor is standing fully upright, Yuuri presses his own body flush to Victors leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss Victor. Victor is still breathing too hard to respond properly. Yuuri steps back, hands still bracing Victor’s shoulders back against the wall. 

“How are you doing?” 

Victor takes a deep shuddering breath. “Can I lay down now?” 

“Definitely.” The bed isn’t far away and Yuuri manages it in a half three legged race half swinging pivot, shifting Victor from braced against the wall to braced against Yuuri’s body, to falling onto the bed. 

“I’m never moving again.” Victor mouths into the comforter. 

“Do you want me to clean you up, get you anything or do you want me to hold you?”

“Washcloth.” Victor demands.

“Okay, well you don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Victor makes a rude noise in response. Victor is basically a log and offers no assistance to Yuuri when he has to figure out how to work the blankets down to get them both under them. Yuuri ditches his own clothes so he can climb in skin-to-skin with Victor. Yuuri shivers happily at the feeling and presses a lazy kiss to Victor’s lips. Victor kisses back this time. Several slow and lengthy kisses later Yuuri asks,  
“How was that?”

“I’m going to hate myself tomorrow probably, but amazing.” 

“Good.” 

“But I’m not doing it again any time soon.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“Right.” Victor nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck. “I get why you insisted we eat dinner first. I’m never ever moving again.” 

“That’s alright, I’m not going anywhere either. We can stay here until the Four Continents. Who cares about training.”

“You do. I do.”

“That’s so reasonable.”

“Uh-huh” 

“After this season though?” Yuuri asks. 

“Definitely.” Victor’s hair tickles Yuuri’s neck as he nods. “I might even look forward to it.”

“Mm. I’ll definitely look forward to it. I love you Victor.” Yuuri kisses Victor’s hair. 

“Love you, Yuuri. Best husband, he is mine.”

“Yours.” Yuuri agrees.


	3. Chapter 3

For the most part Victor has been suggesting things that Yuuri is already familiar with, or Yuuri has offered to do what he’s already familiar and experienced with. Now that they’re more settled in the newer aspects of their relationship, they go occasionally to a kink club Victor found online a couple hours away. Victor has always loved performing and Yuuri is happy to indulge the rush of choreographing Victor for display to others. There’s some selfish part of Yuuri that gets off hard on the idea that everyone else can look but only Yuuri can touch. It’s a part of Yuuri Victor appreciates, so everyone has a good time. Yuuri and Victor aren’t familiar there yet, not the way Yuuri was in Detroit. People might be starting to recognize them as occasional attenders, but Yuuri hasn’t really gotten to know anyone yet. The club is does provide more considerations for creativity. Yuuri notices pretty quickly how when they’re just wandering around together not playing but taking in the atmosphere, Victor tends to be drawn to the rope bondage scenes. 

“Is that something you’d like me to learn?” Yuuri asks on their fourth visit. 

“You don’t know, you haven’t ever done that before?” Victor asks surprised.

“Nope.” Yuuri laughs at Victor’s expression. “I’m not some super top or something. Everyone has their skills. I mean I’ve always thought it was pretty, but I never bothered to learn. I’d want to be careful you know, and there was never anyone I was committed enough with to want to take the time to learn. I’m happy with what I do, but if you’d want to try it, there are some rope classes coming up in a couple of weeks. Might be a good use of the off season?” 

“Yuuri, I love you!” Victor crows. The club is probably one of the few places where Victor’s sudden change in volume doesn’t draw curious glances. 

The partner classes are really kind of fun. It’s mostly technical stuff, no scenes involved. It reminds Yuuri more of the month Phichit tried to take up knitting and dragged Yuuri to the fiber arts club with him than anything else. They sit in metal folding chairs and practice knots first with just the rope and then on their partners, with the instructor walking around the group and making sure everyone’s getting it right. There’s a lot of chitchat. The attendees are all couples because it’s a couple’s class, but not all of them are romantic, or sexual. They all share a hobby and that’s easy to bond over. 

Yuuri is still a little slower to make friends. The atmosphere of the class is far enough from the club that the innate comfort Yuuri has gained in some of these places is just out of reach. But Victor’s there to smooth Yuuri’s awkwardness and he charms everyone. By the third class Yuuri has a few people he returns waves from and seat he sits in every time. The woman who sits next to him has also picked the same seat three times in a row and Yuuri now knows about her Ph.D. dissertation and her girlfriend’s toy poodle named Zoe. Yuuri considers asking if they’d want to go dog walking together sometime. Makkachin is getting on in years but really seems to like younger dogs and would probably love a walking buddy. Yuuri doesn’t bring it up yet. 

It’s a little frustrating to have something to fail at. It’s hard to be sexy when you can’t get the tension right, and have to try tying something three times before it works. Even when Yuuri gets it right the first time, he doesn’t have the flourish or the performance that the instructor displays so effortlessly. It’s nice to have his seat neighbor, reassuring to watch her girlfriend giggling unstoppably at the mess of rope when Yuuri has just made Victor yelp by accidentally pinching him. 

“Sorry!” Yuuri quickly backtracks and soothes his thumb over the abused skin. “I didn’t mean to do that.” The instructor comes over and helps Yuuri do it right three times with guidance before walking off again. Yuuri sighs. 

“I like that you’re learning this for me.” Victor says when Yuuri finishes the last knot. “Look how pretty it is.” Yuuri leans back to look at his handy work. The finished product is pretty great.   
“You look amazing.”

“Don’t I? Do you think you could do it again?” 

“Yeah, let me try.” 

Victor likes wearing the harness at home. Sometimes arms bound behind his back, other times just decorative knotting. He’ll wander around shirtless, or completely naked, and Yuuri will find him staring at himself in the hall mirror. Sometimes Yuuri will just meet Victor’s eyes and smile before going about his business, leaving Victor to his literal navel gazing, always in earshot, in case Victor needs to get loose. Other times, Yuuri will walk up behind Victor and set his teeth into the join between the back of Victor’s neck an shoulder and reach around to stroke Victor off as Victor sags back against him. Victor likes being pretty. Yuuri thinks Victor is gorgeous all the time, but he likes how pretty Victor feels when the lines of deep blue rope crisscross his skin. Yuuri likes riding Victor’s cock, Victor splayed out beneath him arms bound under his back, and hauling Victor up for messy kisses by the bundle of knot work over Victor’s heart. Yuuri is delighted to know that Victor will never stop teaching him things or inspiring him. 

***

“There’s a rope top class that day, actually,” Yuuri says, “If I’m not allowed to come to the rink with you, I could go to that instead. I’d seen it on their calendar, but I figured it’d be a conflict for our schedule, but if you don’t want me there…” Victor blinks then smiles. 

“I want it to be a surprise Yuuri~. It won't be if you watch me choreographing it.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Their off season is winding down and Victor is finishing his new short program. He’s already choreographed the long programs for both himself and Yuuri, as well as programs for Otabek, and Yurio who visited for the last week to drill their new routines. It had been a bit cramped with two people in the smaller guest room but apparently Otabek and Yurio started dating while Victor wasn’t looking. He’d worried a little about the single full sized bed because Yurio is only 17. Almost 18 Yurio corrected the five times Victor brought it up, still so touchy about his age. Victor wanted to point out getting older wasn’t a good thing as a skater, but Victor’s still competing and medaling and even if he worries a little more every competition that his next injury might be his last, maybe this getting old business isn’t so bad. Yuuri’s definitely making it work for him. 

Yuuri had suggested that they offer the blow up twin mattress and let Otabek and Yurio work out whether or not they were going to use it between themselves. Victor never checked their room to see what configuration it was in. There are somethings Victor doesn’t need to know. Yuuri had bundled out the old sheets and the used towels after Otabek and Yurio left for the airport and Victor remains none the wiser. 

“You’ll be home that evening though, right?” Victor asks.

“Yeah.” Yuuri agrees. Victor wraps his arms around Yuuri’s waist and leans down a little to tuck his chin over Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Victor, they were here less than a week.” Yuuri objects.

“And we spent the whole time drilling routines and taking Yurio out to eat and you had that special one-on-one conversation time with Otabek. Yurio and I were both very suspicious. Did you give him a shovel talk?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Victor.” Yuuri says primly, but his cheeks are flushed a light pink. 

“Yurio’s lucky to have us,” Victor declares.

“I suppose so. What do you have planned for Saturday night?” Yuuri asks. What Victor has planned is a slow sweet night of lovemaking, the kind where he can kiss every inch of Yuuri’s face and lace their fingers together while he feels Yuuri’s body tightening around him. The kind where afterward Yuuri will sprawl over Victor’s chest and draw lazy figures over his skin until they roll over and do it all again. Victor doesn’t say what he has planned but Yuuri’s gaze goes heated and his kiss is exceedingly gentle.

“I like that idea.” Yuuri says when he draws back, so something must have been showing on Victor’s face. 

***

One of the best parts of marathon gentle sex with Victor is how utterly cherished Yuuri wakes up feeling, like Victor has loved every inch of his body. Yuuri stretches and gives Victor a sleepy good morning peck before rolling out of bed. He won’t get to see Victor’s new routine until Monday. Victor’s on a half-day, training off ice and Yuuri has footwork to drill at the rink. This means that Victor can sleep in and make his half-day a mid morning to early afternoon if he wants. Yuuri has to get up early and leave. 

Yuuri takes stock of the fridge over his morning cup of tea and draws up a grocery list. He pins it to the fridge with an edelweiss magnet Chris sent them from Switzerland. Next to it, with magnet bearing the logo of his college in Detroit, Yuuri puts up a note right at Victor’s eye level so he’ll see it before opening the fridge for milk for his coffee. Please buy groceries. You can add to the list but please make sure it’s food you’ll actually eat! Yuuri considers requesting a monetary limit on additional food Victor can buy, but it’s basically a lost battle. Victor fails as a price comparison shopper and Yuuri knows what he’s getting into sending Victor alone to a grocery store. 

Victor’s been getting better at cooking though since he started watching the British baking thing. Yuuri’s never been into baking, except for birthday cakes which Yuuri learned to make in Detroit, because birthday cakes have to be homemade even if they come from a box. Apparently baking is Victor’s area of the culinary world and they just never knew. The problem is that Yuuri is never going to be able to eat his cookies or pie because figure skaters have diets for a reason. Their neighbors love them, and the peewee hockey team that meets for practice three evenings a week at the rink. It’s a delicious smelling hobby at any rate. 

Yuuri is unsurprised to come back to a delicious smelling house and a slight disaster of a kitchen. All the groceries were clearly put away before Victor started on his project though, so that’s encouraging. 

“Yuuri!” Victor greets. “Try one, let me know if they’re any good?” Yuuri takes one of the powdered sugar covered confections.

“Oh wow, that’s delicious.” 

“Just one!” Victor chides when Yuuri tries to sneak another.

“Who are you giving these to?”

“I was thinking your Ph.D. friend from rope class? She updated on her instagram that her thesis defense is next week.”

“That’s a great idea! Wait, Victor, do you know where she lives?” 

“Her girlfriend is nearby, she told me about this really great dog park. You know the place I’ve been wanting to take Makkachin?”

“Oh, that is close. I was thinking Makkachin might like a play date, maybe we can coordinate that.”

“Just what I was thinking!” Victor agrees. As Victor cleans up the wake of his confectionary success and Yuuri prepares dinner the conversation turns to the rest of Yuuri’s weekend and how great the instructor of the rope top day class had been.

“Oh, Victor! I have something for you,” Yuuri remembers. “I can’t believe I forgot. Wait just a second.” The box is still poking awkwardly out of his coat pocket. Yuuri retrieves it and hands it over to Victor. Inside is a two layer thick strip of satin about four feet long. One side is black and the other is a deep blue to match Yuuri’s favorite set of ropes. The satin strip is centered on a curved half moon of wire, encased in soft, fake leather. “It’ll bend over your nose.” Yuuri explains when he sees Victor fiddling with the stiffer part over the wire. “See.” Yuuri demonstrates, holding it up to his own face and pressing down around his nose so the covered wire forms to its contours “It keeps out the light better.” Yuuri hands it back.

“It matches the ropes.” Victor says.

“Right? I knew it was perfect when I saw it. That is, if you want it?’ 

“Definitely Yuuri.” Victor hugs him. Yuuri grins into his shoulder. “Did you have a particular plan for this, or can we?” 

“I have a lot of plans. Do you mean right now?” Victor nods enthusiastically. Yuuri looks around the clean kitchen. “Let me put the teriyaki in the oven and turn on the rice cooker and then you’ll have my undivided attention.” Yuuri says. Victor looks disappointed that Yuuri’s expecting his plan to take only forty minutes but Yuuri just smiles. Victor’s probably going to be grateful to be aware of a time limit later. 

Yuuri starts with a simple harness, something Victor is used to, but he takes it slowly, explaining what he’s going to be doing before he really starts. 

“It’ll bend you fully in half, that’s why it’s called ebi, like a shrimp. I’ll be here the entire time, and as soon as it’s getting to be too much you just tell me. I won’t be upset. I need you to tell me Victor, any time you want to stop. Can you promise that?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to try this?” 

“I do,” Victor says, and Yuuri finishes securing his hands behind his back. 

“Is that too tight? Comfortable?” 

“Comfortable, just how I like it,” Victor says and Yuuri flushes warm pleased and proud. 

“I’m going to be asking for feedback through this entire process and I need you to answer me honestly. Cross your legs for me so I can do your ankles.” Once Victor’s ankles are secure, Yuuri unfolds the blindfold. “Close your eyes.” Victor does and Yuuri carefully walks his fingers over Victor’s cheeks and nose, pressing the wire firmly to Victors skin and tying the strip of satin tautly behind Victor’s head. “Please open your eyes. Do you see any light?”

“A little lower left corner.”

“Close your eyes please.” Yuuri waits a moment and then presses more firmly at the lower left corner. “Is that better?” 

“I can’t see anything.” Victor confirms.

“Good. Feel free to have your eyes open or closed, whichever you prefer. Now I’m going to run this rope around the back of your neck.” Victor shivers at the touch. “And when I thread it back down through here and pull.” Yuuri pulls very gently, and the rope pulls taut, dragging Victor down with it an inch.

“Comfortable?”

“I’m fine.” 

Yuuri pulls a little more, “And now? How does that feel?”

“It’s a little stretch in my hips and thighs, maybe lower back? It’s not bad, I’m comfortable.”

“It will get worse if you stay there, do you want to try going lower. Imagine what you’re feeling now once you settle into it. Your muscles can’t move, you’re held immobile, unable to stretch, to relieve that ache. Your muscles start burning, shooting spikes of pain up your spine. Do you think you can go lower?” Victor audibly swallows.

“I do. I do think so Yuuri.” Yuuri pulls just a little more and waits while Victor breathes deeply. “I feel fine.” Victor says.

“Are you sure, just like this?” 

“Yes.” 

“I want you to take a few deep breaths for me.” 

Yuuri listens counting three solid breaths. “You see, this position can constrict your abdomen and your breathing. Do you feel like you can breathe Victor?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be right here as soon as you need me to let you go, tell me,” Yuuri says and wraps the line a few more times from Victor’s ankles and back up around his neck, before tying it off. “You can let your head hang down Victor.” Yuuri says, petting one hand through Victor’s hair. “The stress of keeping your neck up like that isn’t necessary unless you want it.” Victor’s head drops, bobbing over one of his feet. Yuuri pets over Victor’s shoulders and down his back. He palms a generous handful of Victor’s ass and Victor huffs a breath in response. 

“How are your thighs?” Yuuri asks. 

“Burning,” Victor admits, sounding almost cheery about it. His smile is wide and a little dopey. Yuuri is overwhelmingly fond of this man. 

“I’m going to be quiet for a while, but I’ll be right here beside you the whole time. I want you to just be there. Really settle into your body, feel every muscle. Can you do that for me Victor?”

“Yes,” Victor breathes and they both fall silent. Yuuri listens to Victor’s breathing. It slows a little, deepens almost like he’s going to sleep. 

Victor shifts every once in a while, settling in, leaning into the stretch. Yuuri smiles at him, heart pounding in his throat. Fifteen more minutes till the oven timer. Victor only makes it three minutes before calling out.

“Yuuri?!” Yuuri can hear the sharp edge of fear in Victor’s voice.

“I’m right here, I’m right beside you. I’m not going anywhere Victor.” He doesn’t touch Victor, but Victor subsides again. Its another four minutes, Yuuri feels like time is drawing out slower and slower, a millennia held in each of Victor’s slow, intentional breaths. Victor is so clearly holding himself in check. Yuuri isn’t disappointed when Victor breaks.

“Yuuri, Yuuri!” Victor calls, “Talk to me please.”

“You’re doing so well Victor, I know you’re hurting. Your back has to be on fire, by now, like you can feel the muscles connecting to each vertebra. I’m so honored that you’re doing this for me Victor, you’re beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are? The color of these ropes on your skin? The blindfold? You’re a work of art. I should get Phichit in here to take a picture of you. You’re so good Victor. Do you need me to let you go?”

“No,” Victor whispers.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know?” Victor draws a deep breath that shakes, “It hurts, but I’m alright. It’s not too bad yet.” 

“Are you ready to come up?”

“Not yet.” Victor says, firmly this time.

“Alright.” Yuuri agrees. “In Japan, in the Edo period, this was a torture technique,” Yuuri says. “It leaves the person totally vulnerable, no stability if someone gives them the lightest push.” 

Victor whimpers. 

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes!” Victor replies and Yuuri gives him one light push to the shoulder. Victor yelps as he topples over sideways onto the comforter. 

Yuuri grabs Victor’s ass, manhandling him forward to roll more towards his shoulder. Victors shoulders and stomach tense but there’s now way for him to wriggle free when Yuuri blows a cool stream of air over his balls. 

“How are you feeling, do you need me to let you go?”

“It hurts, that didn’t change anything. How long has it been?”

“As long as it needs to be, do you want me to untie you?”

“Isn’t the chicken ready by now?”

"Maybe.” Yuuri grins just to watch Victor whine. “Do you want me to release you? You can’t be comfortable.”

Victor’s breath whistles through his nose. “Not yet.” Yuuri sucks Victors exposed sack into his mouth and runs one dry finger around the pucker of Victor’s asshole.

“Please.” Victor begs. 

“Please what, let you go?” 

“Yuuri~”

“Victor.” Yuuri says back. “Please what. Please my fingers, please my dick, please my tongue.” Victor groans. “That’s not an answer.”

“Tongue, tongue!” Victor pleads. 

“Because you’ve been so very, very good, of course.” Yuuri runs his tongue up Victor’s taint to circle his asshole. Yuuri makes sure to be noisy, humming in approval and slurping wetly so Victor can hear it as well as feel it. The clock on the wall reminds Yuuri it’s seven minutes till the oven timer and Yuuri drills his tongue into Victor until Victor is crying out, “Please, please, please.”

“Please what?” Yuuri asks, “Talk to me Victor.”

“I want to come.” 

“Do you want to come like this?” Victor shudders. “Victor?”

“No,” Victor sobs, one little hitched breath.

“Do you want me to let you up?” 

“Yes.”

“Then of course.” Yuuri makes sure his smile is warm in his voice as he tips Victor upright. Victor yelps at the momentarily increased strain from gravity pulling down on his already stressed back. Yuuri makes quick work of the loops over the back of Victor's neck. The sighed groan as Victor straightens up is perfect. Victor’s face is flushed red. 

“Should I undo your ankles too?”

“Please,” Victor says and Yuuri releases them. Victor straightens out his knees with a deeper groan. 

“Do you want me to remove the harness or the blindfold?”

“No.” Victor replies. 

Yuuri hovers his hand over Victor’s cock, close enough for Victor to feel its warmth. “Do you know why I want you to come, Victor?” Yuuri asks. 

“Because I’ve been good?” Victor asks.

“You’ve been very good but that’s not why,” Yuuri says, “It’s because you asked.” Yuuri closes his hand over Victor’s cock and brings him off in two strokes. Victor sways a little and collapses back to the bed. Yuuri leans down and unties the blindfold. The oven timer goes off. Victor stares at Yuuri wide eyed.

“That was only forty minutes?” Victor gapes. “I thought - It felt like hours.” Yuuri flops down next to him, snuggling close. 

“It did, didn’t it? Do you want to keep the harness on? I can hand feed you. Wrap you up in a blanket and curl up on the couch together, probably get you some pants though first, No bare asses in the kitchen.” 

“Mmm, that sounds good. Do you need to turn the oven off?”

“It can wait a minute or two.” Yuuri kisses Victor. Yuuri only gives himself three minutes two listening to Victor’s steadying heartbeat and one helping Victor back into his pants and wrapping his upper body in one of the couch throw blankets. 

Yuuri serves them two plates and carries them to the living room with Victor following close behind. Teriyaki chicken and rice is not great finger food, at least the snap peas are the kind that come in a plastic apparently microwaveable bag that steams them for you so Yuuri only has to break it open and pour the vegetables out over their plates. Those are finger food. Yuuri gets his own throw blanket and tries not to shiver. Yuuri feeds Victor a bite of chicken before licking sauce off his own fingers. 

“Are you sure you’re alright. I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m great Yuuri.” Victor says warmly. “You were great.” Victor’s eyes track over his face. “How are you feeling?” Yuuri swallows, taking a deep breath. He presses a hand to his stomach where something hot and tight still hasn’t uncurled. 

“I really enjoyed that. I loved that you loved it, it was definitely good, but Victor. Would you mind if I untied you completely, I really want you to hold me right now.” 

“Yuuri, of course!” Victor exclaims, shimmying his shoulders a little so the blanket slides down. Yuuri’s fingers fumble with the rope once before he slows down, evens his breath, and lets the smooth patterns his hands are used to unwinding take over form muscle memory. Then Victor is pulling him flush against the hot, bare skin of his chest. 

Yuuri breathes deeply, the smell of Victor’s skin, Victor’s heartbeat steady and sure under his ear, Victor’s arms tight around his back. 

“Yuuri, Yuuri,” Victor is murmuring over and over, “I love you so much. I love you.” Yuuri takes a shuddering breath and pushes up enough so he can look at Victor a little. Victor’s thumb comes up to wipe away a stray tear, his other arm staying locked around Yuuri.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Yuuri can tell Victor is trying not to sound alarmed. Yuuri shakes his head.

“Nothing’s wrong. It was just, really intense. More intense than I expected I think.” Yuuri takes another breath, finding the love in Victor’s face and centering himself there. “Good but definitely a lot.” 

“Okay, Yuuri.” Victor says soothingly. “You didn’t hurt me,” Victor cocks his head and laughs, “Well, at least nothing I wasn’t fine with.”

“I knew what you meant,” Yuuri says, wry. 

“I’m really glad you went to that class. Did you learn anything else you’d want to share with me.”

“Ugh, Victor, not now.” 

“Mmm, nope!” Victor pops the ‘p’ with audible delight. “You’re not going anywhere at the moment. But later?”

“Yeah, probably. But next time I won't set an oven timer. Cook beforehand, no post-scene cuddle interruptions.”

“Sounds good to me.” Victor agrees and gives Yuuri a gentle kiss. Yuuri flops back down against him. He buries his face into that spot under Victor’s ear that he loves most and breathes. Victor’s hands soothe over his shoulders and massage small circles into his lower back. Slowly but surely Yuuri feels his body relaxing, some last adrenaline high slipping away like water through his fingers, leaving him wrung out, but held safe. 

“Thanks Victor,” Yuuri mutters into his neck. “I’ll be better at this next time.”

“It goes both ways. However you are Yuuri, it’s always fine. I actually kind of like you like this,” Victor says and Yuuri nips at the tendon of his neck lightly in response. Victor’s answering laugh is warm, inviting Yuuri to snicker with him. So he does. 

“You’re perfect.” Victor says once their laughter has died down.

“No, you.” Yuuri eloquently retorts. It’s an argument neither of them are ever going to win. Yuuri is comfortable leaving it at a draw.


	4. Chapter 4

They’re watching the Skate America medals ceremony together, curled up on the couch when Yuuri has the idea. On screen Chris is kissing his gold medal and winking.

“Too bad we’re not there.” Victor murmurs. 

“Looking for a repeat performance of last year?” Yuuri teases.

“Maybe.” Victor draws it out and Yuuri looks away from the screen. They’d left it open at the time, but it hasn’t come up since. Chris has been his ever-flirty self and Yuuri knows he and Victor still talk every few weeks. Victor was right about Chris and nothing has changed, except for a few new levels to Chris’ habitual innuendo and maybe something heavier in the appreciative weight of his gaze on Yuuri when Yuuri held up the gold medal at Worlds. 

“Maybe?”

Victor lifts one shoulder, cocking his head thoughtfully. 

“Do you really think he’s going to retire after the Grand Prix?” Victor asks. 

“Have you talked to him about it?” 

Victor shrugs, “He’s mentioned it in passing, when I said I was giving it one more year.” Yuuri exits out of the livestream and closes the laptop.

“What are you thinking?” 

Victor taps at his lips, pondering the closed laptop. 

“Well, you know Chris and I used to have sex together, and I trust both of you. I’ve been thinking there are some things that can’t be done with just one person.” 

“Like spit-roasting?” Yuuri offers just to see Victor choke on air. Someday Victor will be used to Yuuri’s casual directness, but for now Yuuri cultivates its use and prizes Victor’s surprised, aroused expressions. “That’s something you’ve thought about?” Victor nods. “After the Grand Prix Final though,” Yuuri stipulates. 

“Of course.” Victor agrees. 

“Then I’ll talk with Chris.” Yuuri smiles and presses a soft kiss to Victor’s cheek.

Yuuri doesn’t forget about it, but the race to the podium is as intense as ever. Competing with Victor is all encompassing. It requires Yuuri to always try just a little harder. Exceeding Victor’s expectations is Yuuri’s favorite thing. Between competitions they’re training at the rink, separately or together depending on the day, or laying on the couch slumped against each other in silent exhaustion and re-watching the Korean dramas Phichit hooked Yuuri on in college. There’s some terrific victory sex after the NHK Trophy where Yuuri places silver and Victor gets bronze. Yuri takes the gold, breaking the short program point record Victor had just set at Skate Canada, but they’re both celebrating that too. No one sets new records at the final and Yuuri doesn’t make the podium, Chris beats him for bronze. 

Catching Victor’s eye where Victor is hefting is silver medal, Yuuri wolf whistles. The sound is just sharp enough to make it over the cacophony of cheering and applause. Yuuri can’t hear it from where he’s standing but he can see Chris’ body start shaking with laughter. As soon as they’re all down from the podium, Yuuri makes a beeline for Phichit, inadvertently winding up in a string of gold medal selfies.

“You did it!” Yuuri yells, jumping a few times in excitement, despite his tired legs. Phichit doesn’t seem to be feeling tired at all. He tugs Yuuri in and gets them properly aligned in frame. 

Afterwards at the gala, Phichit is clearly still riding high on his win, but a little more toned down. Yuuri has been systematically liking Phichit’s instagram barrage. How he can manage that level of consistency over so many photos Yuuri has no idea. Even the pictures with Yuuri are unsurprisingly good. 

“Guess what?!” Phichit grins when he catches up with Yuuri. 

“You won the Grand Prix Final?” 

“Yes, but not that!”

“What?”

“I got the arts and culture grant! For my ice review. I get to start looking at hiring for it in the new year. You sure you’re not retiring this year, Yuuri?” Phichit cajoles. 

Yuuri laughs, “Phichit that’s great.” They exchange a celebratory hug. “Congratulations!” 

“Right?!” 

“Have you talked to Chris, I hear he might actually be retiring,” Yuuri says. 

“Of course I have.”

“It’s a little weird that you talk to him more than you talk to me,” Yuuri mutters. 

“You’re still my best friend!” Phichit gives Yuuri a quick hug. “Don’t worry, Chris wont ever replace you. You’ll always be my first call, you’re my non-romantic forever person.” Phichit gives Yuuri’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Isn’t best friend a little easier to say?”

“Nah, you’re more important than a best friend.” 

“And Chris?” Yuuri asks. Phichit’s head swivels to catch Chris in the crowd.

“We’re figuring it out. Speaking of which, I’ll see you later. Don’t drink too much!” 

“Phichit-!” Yuuri objects, but his friend has already run off in Chris’s direction. Yuuri sighs and bookmarks the conversation for later, particularly if he intends to talk to Chris about his proposition. Victor is in the midst of what is clearly an emotional conversation with Yuri, so Yuuri drifts towards the dance floor where Sara and Mila are two of the only people appreciating the music. Mila smiles warmly at him, familiar from all the time they’ve spent sharing a rink and training together. 

“Congrats on silver, by the way.” Yuuri says.

“I’ll beat her next year!” Sara promises and Mila grins at her in return. 

Yuuri calls Chris a week after the final. He took that first week in between with Victor to catch up on all the everyday business that falls too far down the priorities list during competitions. Yuuri restocks the freezer, and Victor dusts all the moldings and wipes down the stainless steel surface of the fridge with that special spray stuff Yuuri hates the smell of and Yuuri Skypes with Phichit for five hours even though they just saw each other. Victor runs several loads of laundry, Yuuri calls his parents, Victor goes to lunch with Yakov and Yuuri takes Makkachin to the vet to get his teeth cleaned. By the time Yuuri calls Chris, he’s excited for a break from catching up.

“Yuuri!” Chris croons. “You never call.”

“Hi Chris. How’s Switzerland?” 

“Snowy. How’s Victor?”

“He’s fine. Actually, we have a question for you.” 

“Mmm, I like your questions.”

“What are your plans for the holidays?” 

“Nothing special, cat cuddling and eggnog mostly. I’m traveling on the 27th of December and busy for the New Year, but nothing before that.” 

“Would you like to come visit us?” Yuuri asks.

“Is this an international booty call?” Chris sounds delighted.

“I was getting to that.” 

“Well, you know me, I’d love to come. …Am I, perhaps, a birthday present?” 

“Not a birthday surprise,” Yuuri clarifies. “Victor and I have talked this over of course, and you and I should discuss the specifics before you agree.” Yuuri is fairly certain that Chris is hard by the time Yuuri hangs up the phone, but it only comes across in his voice a little. It makes Yuuri feel warm, a pleased buzz just under his skin. He goes to find Victor. 

Yuuri has Victor go to the airport to pick up Chris. The store had been out of what seemed like half of the ingredients on Yuuri’s list and they’d had to stop two other places so Yuuri is running behind on dinner. Yuuri startles a little when he hears Victor’s key in the lock. 

“Okaeri,” he calls out and the happy patter of conversation breaks off long enough for Victor to respond.

“Tadaima!” Chris is sitting down to take off his shoes when Yuuri comes into the entry. Victor takes in Yuuri’s apron, a birthday present from this year, and follows directions with a hungry kiss. Chris is watching them when Victor steps back. 

“How was your flight?” Yuuri asks, extending a hand to take Chris’s bag. “I’ll show you to the guest room. Victor, can you take the pan out of the oven as soon as the timer goes off?”   
Yuuri gives a brief tour of the condo as they walk through. 

“Our room is here, we have an ensuite bathroom, so this one is all yours.” Yuuri opens the door and flicks the light on briefly. If you’ve forgotten anything there are spare toothbrushes and travel toothpaste in the drawer under the sink. The toilet paper is in there too, and I think maybe some extra razor heads or something. Help yourself to whatever. Extra towels and sheets are here. Beach towels are the top shelf. The pool is on basement sub level 2 it opens at 8am and closes at 10pm. There are keys by the door that will let you into the gym, pool, and conference rooms, it’s the one with the plastic poodle keychain. If you don’t want Makkachin in your room keep your door closed.”

“Where is Makkachin?” 

“Asleep in the living room I think. And this is your room. I’ll let you settle in. Kitchen is straight down the hall in the opposite direction, dining room is just on the right through the kitchen. Come and join us whenever you’re ready.”

Yuuri can tell Victor is a little anxious, but the scale is tipped more towards excitement and anticipation than worry. His speech is a little pushed during dinner, asking Chris about his last few weeks since the GPF. Chris is all compliments about the food and pretty hilarious commentary about the in-flight movie. The laughter settles all of them. Yuuri pauses to squeeze Victor’s hand before clearing the table and taking the dishes to the washer. Chris is yawning when he comes back. 

“Long transit?”

“You’d think after so many years of competitive skating I’d be used to it.” 

“Well, we’ve got no plans for this evening,” Yuuri says and notes the flash of disappointment on Victor’s face. “Would you like a drink? We have some Christmas cake.” 

“I’m not fond of fruitcake, but a drink would be nice.”

“It’s a Japanese Christmas cake, sponge cake not fruitcake.” Yuuri explains. 

“Well in that case,” Chris agrees.

“Victor?” 

“I’ll take a small slice. Nothing too large for either of us, we need to keep in competition shape. Chris here is the one who can slack off.” Chris snorts derisively but follows Victor to the living room while Yuuri goes to the refrigerator for slices of cake. After two trips for cake, Yuuri brings out both the alcoholic eggnog and a desert wine, one of Victor’s favorites.

“Since we won’t be saving it for tomorrow.” Yuuri says, popping the cork. They only stay up a few more hours. Chris is tired from traveling and Yuuri’s eyes are soon drooping where he’s curled into Victor’s side. The after taste of the dessert wine is sweet on his tongue though he only had one glass of his own, and some of Victor’s. Yuuri presses a line of kisses down Victor’s throat. 

“Come on, we should go to bed before I fall asleep on the couch. Chris, you need anything?” Chris stands and presses his hands to his lower back, leaning till his spine pops audibly.

“I’m good. I’ll see you both in the morning.” 

Victor makes them eggs and Chris drinks three cups of coffee. 

“I figure first thing today we should go to the botanical garden,” Yuuri says. “They’ve decorated it for the season and it’s supposed to beautiful.” Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri can see Victor start pouting. 

“I made us all lunch reservations near there, so we can eat out.”

“But Yuuri~” Victor whines. Yuuri looks at him.

“Good things come to those who wait, don’t they Victor?” Victor closes his mouth. 

“Anything else you have planned?” Chris asks. 

“You’ll see,” Yuuri answers. He doesn’t have any other plans, beyond the obvious, but Chris has flown all the way here, they’re going to show him around a little first at least.

The botanical garden turns out to be thoroughly worth it. Even with the cold biting at his nose, bundled up in scarves, hat, and earmuffs, with his mittened hand tucked into Victor’s own, Yuuri can tell Victor doesn’t want to leave. He keeps taking pictures of everything and making Yuuri pose in front of various displays. 

“I can take one of both of you.” Chris offers and Victor hurriedly hands over his phone. The restaurant is overly warm after being out in the cold and they peel off their various layers until the coat hook at the end of their booth looks more like a fuzzy waterfall. Victor expounds upon the many culinary joys of his favorite restaurant as Chris peruses the menu. They buy more than enough food for leftovers, which is somewhat strategic on Yuuri’s part because he’s certain none of them will be cooking later. Yuuri watches Victor in the rear view mirror on the drive home. His eyes dart between Chris and Yuuri and he’s going to actually rip the skin if he keeps worrying his lower lip with his teeth like that. 

“Victor.” Yuuri says, hard enough to jerk Victor to attention. He continues in a more conversational tone, “When we get home I want you to go to our room strip, and stretch yourself out. At least two rounds of lube, I want you to be thoroughly wet.” Yuuri doesn’t keep his eyes on Victor’s face because he’s a responsible driver, but he can imagine the widening and dilation of Victor’s eyes and can hear the dry click of his throat. Chris curses appreciatively from the passenger's seat. 

While Victor disappears into the master bedroom Yuuri goes over their boundaries with Chris.

“Sure, that all makes sense to me.” Chris agrees. “I’m not really into that kind of dirty talk, or dirty talk in general. It won't be a problem.”

“Is there anything you’d like to add to that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And you’re comfortable following my directions throughout this?”

“I am.” 

“Alright. Good. You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable, as much or as little clothing as you’d like. Shall we go in?” Chris makes a bowing ‘after you’ gesture at the door and Yuuri doesn’t suppress his fond smile. Victor is, as ordered, naked, splayed out on the bed, and working his fingers inside himself. His half closed eyes open at the sound of the door.

“Stop,” Yuuri commands and Victor freezes. “Remove your fingers.” Victor does with a shaky sigh. 

Chris is already hopping out of socks. 

“Victor, undress me please.” 

Chris is sitting naked on the side of the bed by the time Victor is sliding Yuuri’s belt out of it’s loops. Yuuri steps out of his pants. When he sits on the bed, Victor slides to kneel on the floor without directing, rolling Yuuri’s sock down one extended foot. He places a reverent kiss against the arch of Yuuri’s foot and glances up for Yuuri’s approval.

“Thank you, Victor.” Yuuri steps back. “On the bed.” Victor jumps up to follow. On the bed, he reaches for the edge of Yuuri’s underwear. Already so hard, Yuuri’s dick twitches toward his fingers but Yuuri says, “Not yet, Victor. Chris, condoms are on bedside table, pick whichever kind you’d like.” Chris grins looking over the selection and holding them up to ostentatiously read the packaging. 

“Victor, hands and knees.” Yuuri points and Victor shifts into position. Chris has picked a condom and is rolling it on. He looks to Yuuri before climbing up on the bed behind Victor. Victor’s eyes are still fixed on Yuuri’s face. Yuuri watches the catch in his breathing as the bed shifts under Chris’s weight. Yuuri cups Victor’s cheek. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Chris?” Yuuri says to Victor. He watches Chris breach Victor from Victor’s face. “So beautiful.” Yuuri murmurs and Victor bites his lower lip. Yuuri runs a thumb over the worried skin there, feeling the drag and catch of the slicker skin just against Victor’s teeth. Yuuri pulls gently and Victor’s mouth falls open. Heat flares up Yuuri’s core, arousal lancing through him. “Is there something you’d like to taste?” Yuuri asks. 

“Yes,” Victor breathes. 

“Take me out,” Yuuri commands. Victor is awkward one-handed, braced against Chris’s steadily pistoning hips. It takes him two tries to get Yuuri’s underwear down because Yuuri tells Chris, “Harder,” when Victor first reaches for him. Victor squeezes once around Yuuri and Yuuri lets out an appreciative groan. He steps away, Victor’s hand trailing after him, to slide his underwear the rest of the way off. 

“Both hands on the bed.” Yuuri says and Victor’s hand falls. Yuuri steps back towards him. Automatically Victor is reaching for him, hands firm on the bed but neck arching and mouth falling open, caught between Yuuri just out of reach and the powerful snap of Chris’s hips behind him. They’re gorgeous. Yuuri can feel Victor’s hard breath hot against his dick.

“Victor.” Yuuri says. “Any time, you can take your hands off the bed and we’ll stop.” Yuuri slides one hand around to the back of Victor’s head, with the other he guides Victor’s chin. Yuuri takes a step closer so that his knees brush up against the edge of the bed and Victor’s mouth closes around his cock. Victor moans and the sound vibrates straight to Yuuri’s balls. Yuuri closes the fingers in Victor’s hair into a fist a sharp taught pull to Victor’s scalp and Victor moans again tongue working hot and greedy against the underside of Yuuri’s cock. 

“God,” Chris contributes. His eyes are fixed on where Victor’s lips are wrapped around Yuuri. His hips snap a little erratically and Victor gags a bit. Yuuri doesn’t ease off, just stays where he is while Chris grips Victor’s hips white knuckled and hauls him back into his thrusts. Victor whines, sloppy trails of saliva slipping over his chin and trickling down his throat. 

“That’s so good, Victor.” Yuuri purrs. “You make me feel amazing.” Victor shifts from rapid pulse suckling to long, increased suction, breathing heavily through his nose as his tongue rubs from side to side along the length of Yuuri’s shaft in his mouth. Yuuri’s toes are curling into the carpet, hips lifting up just slightly to thrust a little. Yuuri can feel his orgasm building, almost there, sweet little pulses of pleasure rippling out from Victor’s tongue. 

“Very good.” Yuuri caresses his free hand over the hollow of Victor’s cheek. 

He lets his gaze pour over Victor and Chris, Chris’s slack jawed expression, little half exhaled noises falling from his parted lips with each thrust, the dew of sweat on Victor’s back, the red indentations left from Chris’s fingers now he’s shifted his grip, the dark thatch of Chris’ pubic hair where his hips are smacking the paler curves of Victor’s ass. 

“Shit I’m gonna-” Chris shouts. Chris slams forward, bending over Victor’s back. Yuuri steps into it, hand harsh on the back of Victor’s head. He feels the sound Victor makes more than hears it as Victor’s throat vibrates around the head of his dick. Victor’s hands are firmly on the bed as Yuuri holds him in place and comes down his throat. 

Yuuri pulls back, lifts one knee up on to the bed for stability as he leans to kiss Victor, a flurry of little kisses across his cheeks until he taste Victor’s mouth and drink the taste of himself off Victor’s tongue. Victor’s thighs are a mess of come. Yuuri isn’t surprised; he’s felt that particular sound around his own dick before. He’s not entirely sure if it was the combination of sensations, or some shift in angle or friction when Chris bent forward with more of his weight onto Victor. Yuuri slides a finger up, through the splatter, before savoring it on his tongue. It’s Chris who whimpers in reaction. 

“Jesus, Yuuri.” Yuuri smiles at him and Chris collapses back against the bed. 

Yuuri gets a washcloth to clean up Victor and another one for Chris. Chris has already tied off the condom and tossed it into the wastebasket. He seems happy to lie back and let Victor wipe any remaining semen off his dick with the cloth. Cleaned and sorted Yuuri maneuvers Victor around for maximum cuddling, Chris rolled into his other side with one arm flopped across Victor’s stomach so his hand can trail over Yuuri’s bare hip. 

“That was the best fucking birthday present, and it’s not even my birthday,” Chris mumbles. Yuuri presses a kiss to Victor’s ear. 

“I’ll make us a cake tomorrow. What time is your flight, Chris?” 

“Three pm.” 

“No sight seeing.” Victor mutters. 

“Mm, I was thinking maybe a lazy morning and some video games. There’s a reason we got that third controller.” Yuuri agrees.

“Because some things you can’t do without three people?” Victor suggests.

“Exactly.” Yuuri considers suggesting they go for the leftovers in the fridge, but he’s honestly too comfortable. They do eventually break for food, Yuuri throwing an oversized sweater at Chris when he complains he doesn’t want to unpack more to find new clothes. Victor gets straight into his pajamas, a Christmas present from last year because once Yuuri had seen that they were flannel and poodle print he couldn’t not buy them. They take turns with the shower first because once they’re no longer flopped in a pile on the bed it feels a little more necessary. Yuuri and Victor get someone distracted in their shower hand off and Chris winds up sneaking past them so Yuuri can make out with a clean and slightly dripping Victor against the bathroom door while Chris actually washes his hair. By the time Yuuri is out of the shower, Victor and Chris have eaten almost all of the leftovers of Yuuri’s favorite dish. 

“I saved you some.” Victor smiles.

“That is not a third of what was left!” Yuuri protests and steals Victor’s soup. There’s more than enough of what’s left for another full meal. Before they all collapse in a food coma on the living room couch Victor still has a few leftover leftovers to put away. Nobody suggests a nightcap, even with the bottle of Victor’s favorite dessert wine still open. Yuuri’s pretty certain they’d all fall straight asleep if they tried.

“Hey, isn’t there some kind of channel that’s a fireplace?” Yuuri asks. Victor frowns, flipping through to the menu till he can pull up YouTube. A minimal search later, Chris is drooling lightly on Yuuri’s shoulder and Victor is limpeted onto him from the other side, but not yet asleep, watching the crackle and pop of the fake fire through lowered lashes. 

The next day Yuuri beats Chris at the video game and manages to get the birthday cake out of the oven and frosted before they have to drive Chris to the airport. Chris remembers the gift he’d packed for Victor about forty-five minutes before they leave and so the cake is accompanied with a mini birthday party. This time Yuuri goes with Victor to the airport. They say their goodbyes outside security. 

“Say hi to Phichit for me!” Yuuri waves. 

“I’m sure he’ll Skype you sometime while I’m there.” Chris calls back, but then the line has wound far enough forward that it’s awkward to keep yelling over everyone. Yuuri turns back to Victor, who offers his hand. Lacing their fingers together, Yuuri turns and they walk back towards the car.

“Good birthday?” Yuuri asks.

“Best birthday.” Victor agrees, “Thank you.” 

Yuuri shrugs, “It was a group effort. I couldn’t have done it alone.”


	5. Chapter 5

Phichit buys tickets to visit Yuuri and Victor before the Four Continents, knowing whatever way it goes he’ll want some time to catch up with his friend after. Yuuri’s been threatening to retire again, but this time Phichit thinks he might actually mean it. Phichit wouldn’t mind Yuuri’s listening ear about his own future. In the past few months he’s found himself nostalgically wishing for their time together in college, when Phichit could talk to Yuuri, sharing the three am darkness with ideas of the future. It hasn’t all gone like Phichit might have planned but it’s been good.

He’s won his first Grand Prix and now he’s won the Four Continents, there’s an ember of hope he’s trying not to fan too much that he might make it a hat trick and take Worlds. That would be a good season to go out on. Impressive too since he’s been distracted between competitions with endless calls to ice rinks around Thailand and board meetings about his new project. They’re still at least a year, probably more, away from opening Phichit’s ice review but the ball is definitely rolling and Phichit has a growing certainty that he’s not going to be able to keep up with it and keep his skating career. The ice review in turn isn’t shaping up exactly like his impassioned imaginings, but the reality of it is better, even if Phichit is fairly certain his hamster hats are going to be negated. But Phichit isn’t comfortable just letting the decision happen to him. He won’t have his future taken out of his hands by his own inability to juggle all the pieces in his life. Yuuri has always been better at the really big picture. He is occasionally overly anxious or worried about the big picture, but he practical about it when it’s not directly about himself.

Yuuri greets Phichit at baggage claim with a warm hug.

“How was your flight?”

“Not too bad, we had three hours of turbulence where I couldn’t get up to pee, but the plane didn’t crash.”

“Phichit, that’s a remarkably low bar.”

“Just get me somewhere I can lie down and take some acetaminophen.”

“Aye aye.” Yuuri answers with a fake salute, leading out to the carpark. They talk idly on the drive home. Phichit still feels dried out from the plane, both mentally and physically, so he’s sore eyed and a bit slow on the uptake. Yuuri asks about his hamsters and that’s an easy enough topic, they’re not the same three from college but Phichit loves them just as much.  
“Chris said he’d take care of them.”

“Chris is at your place?” Yuuri’s eyes flick over to him, “I thought he just visited you for the New Year?”

Phichit shrugs, “He kind of hasn’t left yet?”

“Phichit, it’s been two months, how is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

“Well, you basically go AWOL when Victor’s competing,” Phichit ticks off reasons on his fingers “So that explains the fact that I didn’t hear from you for the second half of January, and then we both were preparing for the Four Continents and I’ve been juggling my not-actually-so-side project so…Don’t Victor and Chris talk every couple of weeks?”

Yuuri sighs, “He probably thinks you already told me. Okay, cool, Chris is what, living on your couch?”

“In my bed actually.” Yuuri’s head whips around so fast Phichit is momentarily worried they’re about to die in a swerving fiery death. “The road Yuuri!” Phichit yelps.

“What?” Yuuri demands.

“Oh! Not like that, or not quite what you’re thinking. We’re not having sex.”

“Obviously,” Yuuri says, and makes a sweeping gesture that encompasses all of Phichit as a given. It’s kind of sweet actually. “I wasn’t thinking that.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Well, that it’s kind of a leap between being comfortable with Victor and I inviting him in as a third while you’re having a long distance romance thing or whatever with him to him living in your house and sleeping in your bed. Clearly things have changed since we last talked about you and Chris and your…” Yuuri circles an inarticulate hand.

“Relationship? You can call it a relationship.”

“And now it’s a relationship!”

“I don’t know that all that much has actually changed?” Phichit shrugs. Yuuri signals off the main road, turning down quiet residential streets. “Chris is figuring out what he wants to do now he’s retired. After he had his cat flown over there wasn’t really any reason for him to go home, if he isn’t training at his home rink.”

“He flew his cat over?” Yuuri’s voice is probably more strained than necessary.

“Given that your husband showed up naked in your hot spring with his dog, I don’t think you have any leg to stand on.”

“I’m not objecting,” Yuuri quickly hedges. “I’m just trying to make sure I’m clear about the facts.” He rolls down his window to tap a card that lets them through the scrolling gate into the condo’s parking garage. Yuuri takes a deep breath. “Are you happy Phichit?”

“Yeah. In general, and with Chris.”

Yuuri sighs. “Alright, well that’s good. We’re here.” Yuuri helps Phichit with his bags and then slumps back against the wall of the elevator.

“What does Chris do all day?” Yuuri asks.

“Well, I think he’s learning Thai, and he goes exploring. He’s possibly collecting cute frog decorations because there are a lot of those in my living room now. Also he’s got a boyfriend.”  
“Your life is so much more dramatic than mine.”

“I doubt that.” Phichit grins. “The guy is really cool actually, he came over for dinner just before I had to fly out for the Four Continents. He’s German, an English teacher, funny, speaks fluent Thai, super hot too. You should see them together.” Phichit fans himself and Yuuri breaks down laughing. Yuuri’s only wheezing lightly by the time the elevator dings their floor.

Yuuri invites Phichit to make himself at home, so Phichit does, unpacking his suitcase into the guest bedroom drawers and then poking around the rest of the apartment. There isn’t a whole lot up on the walls, but Phichit supposes Yuuri has less need to plaster Victor Nikiforov’s face over everything when he’s living with the man himself. There’s a photo of the two of them with Makkachin framed on the end table at the far end of the hall by Phichit’s room. There’s a framed art photo of a waterfall. The plate for the light switch in the guest bath is painted with tropical fish; a bit of whimsy Phichit can’t assign a name to, maybe the bathroom came this way?

The living room has a widescreen TV a glass cabinet that might have been used to showcase china if it weren’t full of medals, a mess of game console and wires shoved against the wall beneath the widescreen, a bookcase of games, two more substantial book cases of books, mainly in Russian, a coffee table, one arm chair, a long L-shaped sofa that looks invitingly soft, a well loved dog bed, and one of those fake grass and fire hydrant things that Phichit thought only actually existed in in-flight magazines. The living room extends into a dining room behind the couch, one large high gloss wood table and set of four chairs. Behind it sliding glass doors show a gray concrete deck with metal railings, two lounge chairs, and a small barbecue. Phichit hasn’t spotted Yuuri or Victor yet, and the door to their room was open (Phichit had poked his head inside briefly), so he turns the corner from the dining room into the kitchen. Victor is working on something at the counter, Yuuri’s arms wrapped around his waist as Yuuri whispers something into his ear.

“Hi!” Phichit greets brightly. They both startle slightly, but neither of them look guilty as they turn to Phichit. “What are you making?”

It’s part way through dinner and in the middle of another conversation when Yuuri blurts out.

“But won’t the cat eat the hamsters?” Victor looks totally flummoxed, but is unsurprised when Phichit explains that when he takes the hamsters out, that cat gets locked in the bedroom. Their terrarium is on a high shelf in Phichit’s office, which the cat isn’t ever allowed in and never the twain shall meet.

“Chris really likes them actually.”

“Oh, that’s okay then.” Yuuri looks mollified before turning to Victor. “Sorry I interrupted, what were you saying?”

Victor falls asleep on Yuuri’s shoulder on the couch, Phichit had claimed the armchair. He kind of wishes now that he’d taken Yuuri’s other side, but he isn’t going to make Yuuri jostle Victor now.

“That sounds like it’s a lot of work.” Yuuri observes.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Yuuri. I’m younger than you, and look at Victor, I could have another season. When you were my age you were making your comeback.”

“That is really weird to think about.” Yuuri shakes his head.

“I went to college early because I wanted to skate, and it made sense, I’ve loved my career Yuuri. I didn’t think I’d ever want to do anything else.”

“And now?”

“I love it. But there’s more I could do with skating, I just can’t do it all by myself. But I don’t know if anyone else will join me, and…I don’t want to leave.”

“We’ll all still be your friends, even if you retire. Look at Leo, he retired younger than you.”

“And he’s teaching and coaching.” Phichit shakes his head, “That’s different, that’s the expected track, right? You see him every year at competitions. He’s still making a name for himself through his protégés. I know it’s not the same, but he’s still part of it all.” Yuuri hums, a sound so familiar Phichit has to smile. It means he knows there’s more, something Phichit hasn’t said yet and he’ll wait until Phichit figures it out.

“I just don’t want everyone to forget me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Yuuri says with such conviction Phichit is startled. He sounds almost angry. Phichit meets his eyes but Yuuri’s expression is purely fond. “No matter what you do, people will remember your programs from this year. They’ll remember the first Thai skater to win the Grand Prix, they’ll remember your Four Continents win. Do you know how many views your The King and The Skater routine has on YouTube? You have more than Yuri’s free or his short program and he won that year.”

“But not more than your Cup of China free skate.”

“Because Victor kissed me on camera, Phichit that doesn’t count.”

“Spiders Georg is an outlier and should not have been counted?”

“Sometimes I think you’re speaking a different language.”

“I guess I sometimes think that everyone’s moving on without me. With you and Victor, I guess I just miss you, which is stupid because obviously I’m visiting you right now.”

“It’s not stupid Phichit,” Yuuri says softly.

“I just love you a lot.” Phichit’s throat feels tight. He’s probably going to start crying, which is usually Yuuri’s thing not Phichit’s “Not like in-love but-”

“Non-romantic forever person?” Yuuri asks after a long pause. Phichit jerks a nod, breath whistling through his nose, but not actually tearing up yet. “Oh come here,” Yuuri says and opens his arms. Victor slides a little sideways to land on Yuuri’s lap, but doesn’t wake. Yuuri chucks the couch cushion out of the way so Phichit can wiggle into the gap and hold Yuuri tightly in a sideways hug. “You heard the forever part of that?” Phichit nods into Yuuri’s hair. “No matter what you decide, you’re definitely stuck with me.”

“Okay.”

“Just let me know your dates for opening night and Victor and I will get front row seats. I still haven’t been to Bangkok, we’ve got to fix that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re all worried about the future.”

“Are you?”

Yuuri laughs dryly, “Do you want the rundown of everything that could go wrong between now and Worlds, or before the next Grand Prix?”

“Probably not?”

“Nope. We could be here all night, and Victor disapproves of anxiety spirals.” Phichit turns his head on Yuuri’s shoulder to look down at Victor.

“Me too,” Phichit agrees. Makkachin lopes over and licks Victor’s face. Victor flails awake then stares balefully at Yuuri and Phichit who cling to each other giggling as he wipes dog spit off his nose.

Phichit planned his visit for the week break before they all increase training for Worlds, so they don’t have to go to the rink every day. Phichit enjoys practicing with Yuuri and Victor and floods his Instagram with rink selfies and twenty-second videos of Yuuri and Victor goofing off pair skating. They’re not quite the most likes he’s ever had, but he gains a substantial number of new followers. They go together to the local farmers market and the downtown shopping district. Phichit and Victor buy matching sunglasses. Yuuri dutifully takes dressing room photos of the fashion show for everything they don’t buy. They go out to eat and Phichit insists on them recreating that iconic Lady and the Tramp scene, which Yuuri blushes about and Victor enthusiastically gets into. They go to the zoo and tag Yurio in the photo of the three of them (joys of a selfie stick) in front of a very bored looking tiger. #sofierce. Chris likes every photo Phichit posts and uploads his own pictures of Phichit’s hamsters. Chris covered in hamsters is basically the best thing. Phichit comments a string of hearts.

“Oh, Yuuri!” Phichit holds out his phone, turning to show Chris’s new post to his friend. “This is Chris’s boyfriend.”

“Very nice.” Victor approves. Yuuri cocks his head to the side.

“Yeah, I guess if you go for that sort of thing.”

“Well, Chris clearly does.” Victor looks to Phichit for confirmation. Phichit turns the phone back around, taking in the picture of Chris ostentatiously kissing another man on the cheek. _Out to lunch with this handsome man_ , the caption says. Phichit’s _Have fun!_ is the first comment. Chris has replied since Phichit turned around the phone. _I will~_ and a single red heart. It makes Phichit’s chest feel warm to read it and he can’t help smiling. Yuuri knocks their shoulders lightly together.

“You planning to Skype him anytime this week? You don’t have to spend all your time with us.”

“Yeah but I live with him and I never get to see you.” Phichit pockets his phone.

“I’m so honored!”

Phichit heaves a put upon sigh and hooks his arm through Yuuri’s free one. “How far to this cupcake place?” He asks.

“See the green sign?” Yuuri points down the street, “It’s right under that.”

“And we’re splitting the cupcake three ways,” Victor puts in.

“Slave driver,” Yuuri sighs, without any heat.

“Hey, Yuuri?” Victor asks, “Have you talked to Phichit about our idea?”

“Which idea?” Yuuri asks blankly, craning his neck up to look at Victor. Comprehension blushes across his cheeks.

“And we’re finishing this conversation when we get home,” Yuuri declares and starts walking faster, dragging both Phichit and a smiling Victor into the cupcake shop after him.

“Okay, we’re back, I’m dying of curiosity,” Phichit says as soon as they’re through the door. This time Phichit takes the short L end of the couch, stretching out his legs. Yuuri sits down next to him.

“It’s just an idea,” Yuuri prevaricates, “so please don’t feel obligated.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit sighs, “of course not.” When Yuuri’s still cagy, Phichit looks to Victor.

“Yuuri has been learning rope,” Victor proclaims proudly. “And we thought it would be nice to have pictures, since it makes me look so pretty.” Yuuri buries his face in his hands.

“Yuuri, that’s awesome!” Phichit says. “Why are you embarrassed? We don’t live together for three years and suddenly you’re shy?”

“I’m not that good at it yet,” Yuuri complains between his fingers. Phichit pauses, looking at Yuuri carefully.

“Are you actually uncomfortable with the idea?”

“No.” Yuuri’s eyes are peeking through, but he’s still covering his face.

“Are you worried I’ll be uncomfortable?”

“Maybe…?”

“Yuuri,” Phichit says and Yuuri drops his hands. “How is this different from watching you at a club?” Yuuri shrugs one shoulder. He leans back into Victor, apparently taking some moral support from his smile before continuing.

“I guess, it’s just us? And you’d be taking pictures of Victor, maybe without me in the frame, that’s a little more intimate right? It just feels like it might be different?”

“But you’re interested? Or do you just want pictures of Victor?” Yuuri is bright red.

“More the latter. The pictures wouldn’t really be a sex thing for me.”

“But for me they would!” Victor puts in brightly.

“Yuuri, I’m not bothered.”

“You wouldn’t feel like we were using you?” Yuuri asks uncertainly.

“Yuuri, you’re asking my consent about a hypothetical scenario, not strong arming me into something. I can say no, or yes if I want to, that’s not using me. Would it help if I told you I’ve done photo-shoots like this before?”

Yuuri’s eyes fly wide, “You have?”

“I got paid for it!” Phichit grins, “I have a portfolio and everything. How do you think I got us those free pole dancing classes in the first place.

“I thought you’d won them or something.”

“Nope. In trade for services rendered. And no, just because I’m your best friend does not make me feel obligated to take kinky naked pictures of your boyfriend, Yuuri. If I decide to take naked pictures of your husband it’s because I want to. And because Victor wants to, and you want me to.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, relaxing fully back against Victor. “So, would you want to?”

“Definitely, have you seen your husband? Talk about photogenic, this is going to be so much fun! Good thing I brought my better camera.” Phichit has been using it throughout the week. Mostly he’s good with his cellphone, but Phichit is an artist who likes having his tools nearby, there are particularly some shots of red pandas from the zoo that he’s going to have fun with once he gets back to his computer and proper editing software. “So when are we doing this, now?” Phichit asks eagerly. Yuuri seems a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm. He looks to Victor.

“Do you want it to be now?”

“Maybe dinner first, talk over the shot sequences. I have a lot of ideas.”

“Okay.”

Over dinner they decide on two general photo-shoot themes one for the evening and one for the next day. After dinner Phichit takes an even more thorough stock of the condo, though he’ll have to do it again in daylight when hopefully the lighting will be better. The lighting is fine for indoors, mostly lamp lit not a lot of ceiling light, warm and homey and completely frustrating.

“If you’d told me ahead of time I could have brought more equipment.” Phichit grouses.

“You need equipment?” Yuuri honestly still sounds a little lost.

“I could have had my light meter, I could have at least thought to bring a collapsible reflector disc, Yuuri you should have told me.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologizes.

“No, it’s fine. I can make it work. Can we move some of the living room lamps into your bedroom?”

They start with the artsy shoot, which Phichit thinks is probably Yuuri’s unnecessary way of easing him into this. The amount Yuuri keeps checking in with both of them is pretty adorable, and it means Phichit has an extra set of hands to run around moving lights so that’s also handy.

“Like this?” Yuuri asks. Yuuri runs his fingers down Victor’s leg, pressing a kiss to his hip. Victor’s cock twitches between his legs. Yuuri smiles up at him and then steps away, backing out of frame but holding Victor’s eyes.

“Yes, perfect, now Victor, tilt your head up a little bit. There, good. Hold that.” Phichit doesn’t know what Yuuri was worried about.

The rope pattern is one Phichit has seen before, six knots marching down Victor’s sternum and stomach anchoring a pattern of diamonds. Phichit hadn’t taken any photos of Yuuri tying the knots, Yuuri had asked not to be in the shots, but he’d imagined how he’d frame it: Yuuri’s solid focus, Victor holding perfectly still and inhaling on Yuuri’s command to make sure design would be pulled firmly secure, but comfortable to breathe in. The perfunctory way Yuuri grazed Victor’s cock, tying a knot just above it and another just below, while avoiding any more contact that the barest brush of the back of his hand made Victor’s head fall back, curses dropping from his lips. Eyes closed, Victor can’t see Yuuri’s slight, pleased smile, but Phichit watches. He watches now through the camera lens, Yuuri out of frame but never far, somehow present in the photo just from the way Victor holds himself, the marks of Yuuri’s hold on him, both invisible and the beautiful blue pattern across his skin.

“Victor, bring your left knee up a little higher,” Phichit directs. The shift obscures Victor’s cock from view but delightfully displays the curve of his ass. Hips to the side, upper body turned to lay flat against the bed, the blue lines of rope curve with him, drawing the eye up to the exposed and arched column of his throat.

“Beautiful,” Yuuri whispers reverently.

“Perfect,” Phichit agrees and snaps another photo. The contrast of Victor’s pale skin and light hair against the black sheets makes him seem to glow. Which, who has black sheets? But Phichit isn’t complaining. Victor's eyes go half lidded and Phichit clicks off another picture.

“Okay, next pose. Victor on your knees please, facing away from me, Yuuri?” Yuuri’s already stepped into frame to help Victor sit up. Phichit looks critically at the composition. Through the lens, Yuuri’s hands are tender on Victor, steadying and sure. Yuuri presses a row of kisses across Victor’s shoulder and Phichit watches him shiver.

“Can you change the forearm tie to bound wrists instead, it’ll show off the back pattern better.” Phichit requests.

“Sure, that alright with you, Victor?” Victor nods and waits while Yuuri undoes the tie. Yuuri’s hands slide down Victor’s arms slowly bringing them flush tight together at the wrist. He holds Both of Victor’s wrists together for a moment letting Victor relax into the strength of his touch before he starts binding. Phichit can hear Victor’s contented sigh, watches Victor’s fingers curl around Yuuri’s hand for a moment before Yuuri pulls his fingers away.

“Lovely,” Phichit praises. After a close up of Victor’s hands, Phichit says, “Look back over your shoulder.” Victor curves his neck and Phichit sees the moment his eyes meet Yuuri’s. Phichit snaps the photo; it’s probably going to be one of his favorites.

A few more poses later and Phichit figures they’re just about done. Yuuri is in frame again, hand soft in Victor’s hair, praise falling from his lips to Victor’s smile as he helps Victor reposition.

“Yuuri,” Phichit says, “I want to take a close up. If you move just slightly to your left only your hand will be in frame. May I take that photo?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says, shifting back slightly, eyes still locked with Victor’s. Victor presses into his hand, gaze hot and smile adoring. Phichit takes a few shots. In the space between shutter clicks, Yuuri’s hand squeezes into a fist in Victor’s hair, arching his neck back. Victor’s mouth opens in a gasp and Phichit mashes the shutter button. Phichit lowers the camera and Yuuri leans down to kiss Victor thoroughly.

“Well, I think I’m done here. I figure you two can entertain yourselves if I just back out of the room.”

“Probably,” Yuuri agrees.

“Good, wouldn’t want you to be bored. I’ll be playing all your video games, or possibly FaceTiming Chris in your living room if you need me. I don’t think you’ll need me.” Phichit flashes Yuuri a thumbs up and gives his friend some privacy. These pictures are way better than the red pandas.

Phichit can honestly say he has more fun with the second photo-shoot, but that’s mostly because the lighting is much better in daytime. They’ve draped a sheet, white this time, over the couch and it’s a gorgeously sunny day outside. Yuuri and Victor’s condo is high enough, looking out over the city, that they’re not worried about anyone looking in, so Victor is trussed up on the couch. All identifying items from their apartment have been moved out of frame, so it’s just the white sheet, white walls and Victor, sweating, achingly hard, and drooling over his gag.

The pictures are fewer and farther between, Yuuri in the frame too much, but possibly they’re better. Yuuri builds the binding slowly, stepping away so that Phichit can capture the artistry of his creation, the way the layers build. First the harness, Victor sitting up on the couch, taking a deep held breath Yuuri moves the rope to his chest, before Yuuri can even ask him to breathe in. The familiarity of the gesture speaks as much as the smooth movements of Yuuri’s fingers. Once Victor’s harnessed, Yuuri shoves him lightly and Victor topples face first into the seat cushions. Victor turns his face to the side, toward Phichit, cheek smushed against the cushions. Phichit captures his delighted laugh Yuuri’s shadow falling across his bound arms. Yuuri ties Victor’s wrists with the second rope. When Yuuri steps out of frame, Phichit snaps the photo, the line of the lead slicing bright red against the white backdrop, stretching from Victor to Yuuri. Yuuri adds a double column at Victor’s ankles as well, pressing kisses across the soles of Victor’s feet until Victor is jerking with whole body spasms of laughter. Phichit waits with the camera while Yuuri reaches between Victor’s legs, drawing the remaining rope from the wrist bind through before pulling slowly taut.

Phichit takes a few pictures of Victor face down before Yuuri steps back in. Yuuri lifts Victor onto his side. Victor’s cock springs flushed and ready, smacking against his thigh at the movement.

“Ready?” Yuuri asks, the gag in the palm of his hand.

Victor nods, “Yes, Yuuri.” and Yuuri kneels down to slip it carefully in place.

“If you close your eyes we’ll stop and take the gag out. Can you keep your eyes open?” Victor nods and Yuuri wraps a rewarding hand around his cock. Each time Yuuri steps away, the Victor in the photo grows increasingly more frustrated. Sweat runs rivulets down his chest, gathering against the red lines of the harness and tracing the outlines of Victors abdominal muscles. Phichit is delighted. In the bright daylight, with help from a few lamps, the sweat gleams, perfect chiaroscuro to the shadows cast by the rigid tension of Victor’s trembling muscles. It’s a much more visceral image than the artful glow of the previous evening.

“Do you want to come Victor?” Yuuri asks and Victor nods frantically. His cock is leaking across his thigh, more streaks of slick light. His eyes are wide and pleading though they must be stinging with the sweat he can't wipe off his brow. Yuuri steps in close to kiss his forehead, licking the taste of sweat off his lips before sweeping a soft hand over Victor’s skin. Victor sighs in relief, blinking before quickly opening and widening his eyes. Yuuri is clearly hard in his pants, not for the camera, every inch of him trained on Victor.

“Do you want to see what you do to me?” Yuuri asks and Victor nods. Yuuri glances up at Phichit and Phichit lowers the camera.

Yuuri’s gaze falls hot back onto Victor’s face as he takes himself out of his pants. Victor whimpers at the sight of Yuuri lazily rolling his cock against his stomach. Victor’s cock jerks, another strand of precum dropping onto his thigh. Yuuri gives himself only a few squeezes before stepping away again. Victor whines at the distance and Phichit raises the camera and captures the yearning in his expression. Every inch of Victor is also reaching for Yuuri. They dance like this until Victor is squirming and the waistband of Yuuri’s pants is stained dark. Victor closes his eyes firmly on a breathy exhale and Phichit snaps a photo in the split second before Yuuri’s hand enters the frame to remove the gag. The string of supplications fall from Victor’s lips like the gag had trapped them all piled up against each other until the string of please becomes inseparable from the need on Victor’s face and the heat in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Just like this, while you’re bound, with Phichit and the camera watching?” Yuuri asks and Victor’s cock jumps.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Yuuri shifts to sit by Victor’s legs so Phichit can train the camera on Victor’s face, his flushed shoulders and the corded line of his neck. Yuuri fist flies over Victor’s shaft, the sharp sweet expression of pleasure caught in triplicate with the split second flashes of the shutter. Yuuri’s other hand works his own cock, gripping awkwardly but with desperate speed. Victor comes first, an open-mouthed sound Phichit is sure he’ll be able to hear when he looks back at the picture, the same way laughter bubbles up from the photo of someone truly happy. Victor’s orgasm tips Yuuri over, muscles seizing and hips twitching as his own come spurts across Victor’s thigh. Yuuri leans down to kiss Victor sweetly.

“I’m going to turn you over and take this off, alright?” Yuuri says and Victor nods.

Phichit watches Yuuri’s slow methodical process of untying Victor. His hands linger with each loop, reacquainting themselves with the muscles beneath like perhaps in the unbinding Victor is somehow made new and Yuuri wants to greet every part of him. It’s hypnotically soothing to watch and Phichit finds himself echoing the settling rhythm of Victor’s breathing, aware of himself coming down.

“Phichit,” Yuuri beckons, drawing him over as he helps Victor sit up to untie the harness. Phichit sits on Victor’s far side and Victor smiles joyously at him.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” is all Phichit can think of to say.

“That was so wonderful, Phichit,” Yuuri says. He pauses in his untying of the harness to squeeze a warm hand on Phichit’s shoulder. “I really wanna give you a hug, but you’re gonna have to wait a second,” Yuuri says, tone distracted as he works out the last knot. The rope slides free and Yuuri tosses it across the couch coming around in front of both Phichit and Victor so he can wrap his arms around both of them. It’s completely awkward but also perfect. Phichit breathes in. Victor’s fingers tangle with his where their hands overlap against the couch cushions.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says to both of them. After another few moments they reshuffle themselves on the couch. Yuuri rescues the throw blanket from where it was hidden behind the couch and it barely covers all three of them. They stick Victor in the middle, since he’s the naked one. The skin of Victor’s shoulder is remarkably smooth and soft. Victor curls his arm around Phichit’s shoulders. Phichit doesn’t feel sleepy but he closes his eyes. Searching fingers poke his arm and he realizes Yuuri is groping across Victor’s stomach for his hand. Phichit curls his fingers around Yuuri’s own and lets himself be tugged just a little bit closer.

Phichit doesn’t review the photos. They’ll be a treat for when he gets home and has time to edit them. If he looks at them now he’ll just want to start on the project and Phichit wants to be present with Yuuri and Victor for the rest of his vacation. Honestly, Phichit isn’t going to be able to pick a favorite, but then again he doesn’t have to. It’s Yuuri’s job to decide which ones he’ll want to have Phichit print form him to mount on the wall. Phichit fully expects the blank spot in the far corner of Yuuri and Victor’s bedroom, the one that’s obscured whenever the door is open, to be filled when he comes to visit next.

The rest of Phichit’s vacation proceeds much like the first half, though Victor seems less picky about being fully dressed in his own home now that Phichit’s taken pictures of him naked. It’s kind of nice actually, sharing Yuuri and Victor’s space like he shared his dorm room with Yuuri in college, comfortable, unapologetic, honest. They go to the dog park with Makkachin and watch a predictable action movie in a theater where Phichit winds up signing two autographs waiting in line to get popcorn. The three of them wind up FaceTiming Chris together and Phichit hatches a plan for a shared vacation somewhere tropical come the off season. Phichit hasn’t encountered any grand inspiration, no signs from on high pointing him in the specific direction of his future, but by the time Yuuri drops him off at the departures terminal, he’s feeling more ready to take it on. Whatever it is, he’s not doing it alone. And, if all else fails, he can always fall back on photography. Some people do that for a living. Phichit would rather be ice-skating, but it’s not bad to have alternatives.

There are a lot of things Phichit loves in his life. It’s good to be reminded of all of them when he starts getting bogged down in the details.

“Next time we’re not waiting three years before I actually get my Yuuri time.”

“Agreed. And I really do want to visit Bangkok.”

“Fiji first, or Hawaii. Vacation Yuuri.”

Yuuri laughs. “I don’t need to be somewhere special Phichit, as long as you’re there.” He comes in for a hug, arms tight around the back of Phichit’s neck “I missed you too,” Yuuri says before he draws back. “But I’m not going to make you miss your flight by testing who can say goodbye longer.”

“Till next time then!”

“See you at Worlds!” Yuuri agrees. Yuuri stands at the edge of the retractable line demarcation, waving every time Phichit looks back, until Phichit is through the body scanners and out of security.


	6. Chapter 6

Chris breaks up with Geog the week after Worlds, though the two things are almost entirely unrelated. Chris went to Worlds to support Phichit, and Yuuri and Victor and the rest of his friends, and it gave him a bit of perspective. His relationship with Geog had been really great. He’d appreciated having someone to explore Thailand with while Phichit was training and having someone to speak German with. The sex had been excellent. But the relationship had been progressing towards permanency. 

Chris had thought he wasn’t opposed to the idea, having something stable in his life, there’s Chris’s thing with Phichit after all. But, apparently Chris is a one-man kind of guy, at least when it comes to his heart. Geog had been fun, Chris had wanted fun, but when Geog started talking about their three-month anniversary and his visions of the future, including both Chris and Phichit by extension, Chris had been surprised by the discomfort of his own gut reaction. Going to Worlds with Phichit had clicked something into place. 

Chris has done sex without feelings, and sex with feelings, but he’s never done feelings without sex before. It’s unexpected, but the intensity with which Chris falls for someone has remained the same. Chris had looked up at Phichit on that podium and truly recognized the emotions welling up inside him. That was it. Chris doesn’t have room for another person emotionally when that kind of intensity is taking up every inch of him. As great as the relationship had been and as much as Chris enjoys Geog’s company, it turns out they’re looking for different things. Still, Chris hates breaking up with people, it’s so much easier when relationships fade and naturally taper out due to mutual lack of interest or distance. Chris comes home and cuddles Phichit, breathing him in until Chris is certain he’s done the right thing. Looking down at Phichit’s hair, once Phichit’s breathing has slipped into the even pattern of sleep, Chris realizes he hasn’t said it yet. He probably should tell Phichit he’s in love. 

“You could skate for him.” Victor suggests, which is a completely Victor suggestion. “Or buy him a ring. It worked for Yuuri.”

“We’re not getting married,” Chris objects.

“Too bad, marriage is great.” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Victor.”

“And this is unusual for you?”

“Yes it’s unusual!”

“Just talk to him, he’s letting you live in his house. His instagram is full of pictures of your cat. Buy him a dozen roses and start a conversation.”

“Was I this unhelpful when you asked me for advice with Yuuri?”

“Worse, all you suggest is innuendo.”

“Which is not going to work with Phichit.”

“You might make him laugh though,” Victor points out. 

The problem is, Chris doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life. He doesn’t want to be a coach, he’s never been very interested in choreography, he’s done a couple of exhibitions since his retirement, but as much as he loves the audience, the adrenalin thrill isn’t quite the same outside of competition. Maybe Chris will get used to it, but the real truth is he doesn’t want to travel all the time anymore. 

Chris has found somewhere he wants to stay, someone he wants to stay with. He’s ready for his days of jet setting around the globe to be numbered. There is always Phichit’s ice review, Chris has seen the stacked papers of contracts and costume design sketches and routine notes, discs of music auditions and printouts of emails with ice performance groups and correspondence with the manager of Cirque du Soleil at the Bellagio in Vegas. Maybe Chris can both stay here with Phichit and skate, but he’s not sure if the skating is actually part of what he wants. It’s all pretty tangled at the moment. His coach had suggested looking into commentating when Chris had finally made his retirement official. He’d offered to introduce Chris through some of his connections. Chris doubts he could get a job as a commentator in Thailand. Chris stands by the refrigerated case of flowers in the store and texts Victor his woes.  
_You could always be a porn star_ , Victor texts back. Chris picks out a dozen red roses and sends Victor a suggestively winking face and an eggplant. There’s only one part of all of this that he’s sure of so he pays for the roses and heads home.

Phichit is clearly surprised by the roses but he takes them happily, bending his head to inhale the sweet scent before looking up at Chris.

“What are these for?” Phichit asks. 

“I’m in love with you,” Chris blurts, which is not nearly as suave as the speech he’d been planning. Phichit smiles widely. “I have no idea what I’m doing with the rest of my life, but I know I want you to be part of it.”

“Chris,” Phichit’s face is delighted. He flings both of his arms around Chris, whacking Chris’s shoulder with the bouquet. 

“Is that-? Phichit?” 

“I’m in love with you too.” Phichit draws back enough to press a quick, soft kiss to Chris’s lips. Chris melts a little. They have a lot more to talk about, but Chris feels better already. 

They tell their friends slowly, most of them already know about their relationship, but there’s something heady about making it official and sharing how happy they are. JJ sends them a fruit basket and Chris can’t decide if there’s a coded message there or if he should be insulted, it’s delicious though. They go to Hawaii with Yuuri and Victor and it feels a lot like a honeymoon. Phichit has been more physically affectionate since Chris’s confession, like the open honesty of his feelings have opened the door to a tidal wave of a thousand little acts of adoration: kisses on the tip of Chris’s nose, the silly flutter of Phichit’s eyelashes against Chris’s cheek, Phichit’s fingers drawing contented groans as he works the muscles of Chris’s shoulders. Chris has always gotten hard easily, but it feels now as if his body has tripped into overdrive. 

“You know,” Phichit says, as Chris shifts awkwardly, trying to reposition himself so he won’t be poking Phichit so much where Phichit is sitting on his thigh. “We could get that taken care of.”

“What?” Chris asks, which is how Chris finds himself in a sex club with Phichit for the second time. 

“See anyone you like?” Phichit asks. Chris looks around. There are several couples already engaged, onlookers, conversations by a food table, and cuddling, fucking moresomes in the first room. “Let’s walk around a little,” Phichit suggests. If Chris wasn’t already hard, the sheer noise of the space would have done it for him. Phichit holds his hand as they follow the demarcated paths from room to room. Chris catches a few admiring glances, but as much as he plain likes having sex, he’s still looking for someone attractive to him. He doesn’t have to look very far though. 

“Are you here to swing?” a woman’s voice asks lightly from beside him. Chris turns to give her his attention. She’s holding a man’s hand, her eyes flicking from Phichit to Chris. She’s petite, tanned skin, small breasts, curly brown hair, dark brown eyes and beautifully curved hips. Her partner is equally gorgeous, dark skin, shaved head, the muscle definition of a recreational athlete, and a wide inviting smile. Chris isn’t exclusively attracted to men and he’d be delighted to have sex with either of them. 

“I do, but my partner doesn’t. He’s here to watch.” Chris explains. He looks between them, “interested in a threesome?” The woman looks thoughtfully at the man. He gives Chris a thorough up-down look, which Chris returns by canting his hips.

“I’m game,” he says, “Sam.” Chris shakes his hand, then Phichit does, as there’s a round of introductions. Sam’s wife is named Valerie. Pleasantries dispensed there are some basic ground rules established. Chris is happy to be fucked, yes please, don’t call Valerie by her full name during sex, it’s Val, don’t touch Val’s nipples unless she asks you to explicitly. 

There’s a couple finishing up and they wait, puppy guarding the spot. Chris helps Phichit conduct a thorough wipe down with the room’s cleaning supplies before getting naked. Phichit hands him a condom and gives him a quick kiss. Chris grins back. Chris loves sex. Even with someone new, or in this case two new someones, Chris knows his own body. He knows how he likes to be touched, the ways he likes to move, and now there are two sets of hands eager to take his suggestions, and two ready mouths happy to direct Chris in return. Sam shows him what feels good for Val, and Val returns the favor. Between them Chris has never been more intimately aware of Phichit watching. Chris locks eyes with Phichit as Sam positions him against Val, lets that exquisite first slide of feeling play across his face at his first thrust inside her. He holds in place, watching Phichit watch him as Val makes a few first, tiny circles of her hips and Sam stretches him out, the combined points of pleasure shuddering across his skin. 

“Ready?” Sam asks and both Val and Chris nod. Chris gasps greedily at the slow pressure inside him. The dirty grind of Val’s hips shoves him back on Sam’s cock. Chris lets his eyes fall closed, but even then all he can think of is Phichit watching. Phichit’s eyes on him. Phichit tracking everything Chris was feeling, each sensation arcing in the space between them, redoubled by the mirror of Phichit’s appreciation. Sex has honestly never been this good and Chris is positive it had very little to do with the two people immediately closest to him. It’s Phichit’s appreciative gaze that burned the handprints into Chris’s hips, Phichit’s rapt expression that spiked lust through his core, riding in time with the motion of his hips, the hot clamp of Val around him. Chris is more vocal than he might have been otherwise, words for Phichit’s benefit more than his partners, but appreciated by all if Sam’s low moans and Val’s breathy hitches of echoing sound were indicator. Chris can picture the image they make: Val’s fingers pressing white spots into his forearms, the bounce of her curly hair at each thrust, Sam’s powerful hips moving behind him, the thick draw of his cock out of Chris’s body before he snapped forward again.

Through Phichit’s eyes Chris is lost in the beauty of it and it tumbles him over the edge. Sam’s thrusts keep him moving in Val and Chris is momentarily worried that he isn’t going to be able to last the overstimulation but Val is grabbing his hand, slamming it down against her breast in an obvious request, Chris thumbs her nipple and she arches, stomach contracting beneath him. Sam’s head drops against Chris’s shoulder, and he bottoms out, hips holding flush against Chris’s ass as he scrabbles one free hand up to cover his wife’s on Chris’s shoulder. Val squirms underneath him and Chris slides back when Sam pulls out, untangling them. They lay there together, heaving for breath and exchanging smiles. Chris looks to Phichit, fond and warm. 

“Do you want to join in with the cuddling?” Chris asks. 

“You’re all sweaty, but sure.” 

“Ooh, please.” Val agrees, “Sam isn’t a cuddler but I love cuddling, if you want. No pressure.”

“I’d like that,” Phichit says and Val scoots over so Phichit can slot between them. Sam sits up, just a few inches away, within reach but not touching. 

“That was fantastic,” Sam says with feeling. 

“No complaints here,” Phichit agrees and presses a kiss to Chris’s sweaty shoulder. There is of course another set of people waiting for a spot so they don’t bask as long as Chris would like, but Phichit stays close while Chris dresses.

“You don’t have to get dressed,” He points out.

“I know, but what I really want to do right now is go back to the hotel so I can hold you as long as I’d like.”

“Oh, well, that’s a good plan.”

“Glad you think so.” 

It’s amazing how fast two people can move, even if one is essentially hugging the other from behind. They direct their odd sort of two-person conga line to the door. Chris is frustrated when they have to let go but he holds Phichit’s hand all the way back to the hotel until they can climb into bed together, Phichit’s skin warm and comforting against his own. 

“So, was that satisfactory?” Phichit asks. 

“More than. And for you?”

“Nothing I’d rather be watching,” Phichit admits. 

“I’m glad.”

“That means we can do that again.” 

“I kind of guessed.” 

Phichit’s fingers walk down his arm and then back up again. 

“I just wanted to be clear. I know sex is a thing for you, and for me, obviously, it’s not.” 

“I know.”

“We haven’t really talked about this since you gave me roses. I just want you to know that hasn’t changed my views on you having other sexual partners. Has it changed things for you?”  
“I was in love with you before that, I’m still in love with you, Phichit. What I want is to spend as long as I can with you; it’s still the one thing I’m sure of. Well, and having sex while you’re there. Sex without you, it just doesn’t compare.”

“You never know, maybe it was just the people, maybe Sam and Val were particularly good.”

“Phichit-”

“You know you’re gonna have to test this hypothesis, for science.” 

“Are you saying you want to watch me have lots of sex?”

“Whenever you want,” Phichit agrees. “Well, unless I’m skating or working, maybe not then.”

“That seems reasonable.” Chris chuckles.

“The way I feel about you isn’t reasonable.” 

“Me either.” Chris kisses Phichit, warm and fond, holding Phichit close to feel the steady thump of Phichit’s heart against his own. Each held close by the other Chris closes his eyes, feels the comfort in every place they’re aligned with each other. With Phichit’s arms around him, Phichit’s steady breathing next to him, the hotel room could be anywhere in the world and Chris would be happy to be there. 

“This is everywhere I want to be,” Chris says, which is a little nonsensical but Phichit squeezes his shoulder and says, “I know what you mean.”


	7. Chapter 7

They’re laying in bed on one of the final days before resuming training for what Victor has decided, with extensive input from Yuuri, will be his final season. Victor skated the bare bones of his free skate program for Yuuri this morning and Yuuri had cried and told him it was the perfect send off. Yuuri’s program is its complement, the other half of a dance. Victor has never been so proud of a set of choreographies.

Even if neither of them place this year, Victor is ready. He’s over thirty, it’s a longer lifetime in skating than many people get. Victor knows, when he steps off the ice, he’ll be stepping into Yuuri’s arms, and the rest of his life. The idea is no longer as scary as it might have been a few years ago. Victor isn’t weighed down by his successes, isolated by victory and drive. The life and love he has built made room for skating, but won’t collapse without it.

“Are there any fantasies you haven’t shared with me?” Yuuri asks, propping his chin up on Victor’s chest to look at him. There’s still a crust of sleep in the corners of Yuuri’s eyes and his hair is messy from the pillow. Victor wonders if retirement will mean he gets to laze in bed like this every morning. Victor ponders. There’s so many things they have done, the adventure of his relationship with Yuuri a sprawling map of kisses and moments of realized fantasies both explicit and mundane. Here Victor holds Yuuri’s hand on the podium, medals gleaming on both their chests, there Yuuri drags his nails down the trembling flesh of Victor’s thighs as Victor fights to stay as still and quiet as Yuuri commands him. Here they skate together, exhibition skates and that viral video from the first year training together in St. Petersburg, there Yuuri falls asleep against his shoulder in the cab. When an answer comes to him, Victor’s a bit surprised he’d forgotten enough it didn’t occur to him immediately.

“I used to imagine you sitting on my face, over me while I blow you.” Victor says matter-of-factly.

“You don’t imagine it any more?”

“Hmm. Mostly I don’t have to imagine things with you, Yuuri. Or I’m too distracted thinking about what we have done.”

“Is it something you’d still want to try?”

“That would be amazing.” Victor’s cock twitches against Yuuri’s leg, starting to fill. Yuuri presses a kiss to Victor’s chest.

Victor looks up at Yuuri above him. His jaw aches, stretched wide under the weight of Yuuri’s hips bearing down in slow rolling thrusts. Yuuri isn’t driving towards climax, instead languidly enjoying Victor’s mouth.

“So good Victor, so good for me,” Yuuri whispers, reverent. Yuuri’s hand is tight in his hair. Victor’s scalp burns pleasantly. Victor’s answering groan vibrates up from his curled toes. He smells sex and musk and Yuuri. The rest of his body, even the impatient line of his own cock fades out of importance, funneled down to this. Yuuri’s hand in his hair, Victor’s name on Yuuri’s lips, Yuuri’s cock dragging against the suction of his lip and tongue. Yuuri dominates Victor’s field of vision.

Victor is secured, safe and trusted under Yuuri’s hot eyes. He is everything, the only thing that matters as Yuuri’s hips hitch in their rhythm. Victor is ready for him. He melts under the loving caress of Yuuri’s hand of on his cheek. He falls apart when Yuuri’s hips thrust down, driving his head back into the pillows. Yuuri comes hot down Victor’s throat and Victor swallows convulsively. Yuuri’s hand anchors him, hard in his hair. Yuuri is so beautiful.

Yuuri’s cock drops wetly from his lips when he pulls away. He gazes down at Victor, hand gone gentle in Victor’s hair. Victor doesn’t speak. He tastes Yuuri on the back of his tongue.

“Victor,” Yuuri says simply. It’s all Victor wants to hear. “Do you want to come too?” Yuuri asks. Victor shakes his head minutely. He doesn’t want to expand back into his own skin yet.

“Okay,” Yuuri says and stays right where he is. Time spools out around Victor, Yuuri gently keeping him there. Then finally, Yuuri says, “Victor?” and Victor nods. Yuuri slides down so Victor can roll sideways and wrap a leg over Yuuri. Yuuri’s hand cups the back of his calf. Victor breathes into all the places he’s touching Yuuri. He breathes into all places Yuuri is not. He feels the ache in his knees and the bunch of covers under his left foot. He holds Yuuri close and Yuuri breathes with him.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Victor.” Yuuri says after a while when the silence has grown warm and comfortable, like waking up with Yuuri close beside him each morning.

“Mm-hm.” It wasn’t like Victor had expected but Victor has learned that with Yuuri he’s always surprised. It’s one more joy on their adventure. “That’s the only other fantasy I can think of,” Victor finally says

“There’ll be more, we’ll discover them together.”

“We will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much Opalsong for inspiring me to write this fic, it basically consumed my life for four days but also it was a delight. <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stretch, Push, Shift [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10090667) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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